When Winter Comes to Stay
by planet p
Summary: AU; Maybe he's lonely, too. Just maybe. David/OC


**When Winter Comes to Stay** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _Code Name: Eternity_ or any of its characters.

* * *

1.

She was dressed in her school uniform, though school had ended many hours ago, and stood staring into a shop window at a model aeroplane. Whatever her interest was in this particular item, didn't concern him in the least, he was only concerned by the fact that, yes, he had recognised her and, further to that, that she looked a lot different now, now that as many years had passed as had since he last recalled seeing her photograph, or reading her letter of thanks, penned by a poor but academically fortunate eleven-year-old schoolgirl, pleased, at the least, to have been afforded the opportunity to further herself through a decent, solid education if not a perfect home life or upbringing, and, if overwhelmingly so, only because of those around her that dictated that she should feel so, that her future, from then on, should be so assured: a sure thing.

It wasn't so much that he had recognised her, he thought, that he should feel something for her, towards her, it was merely that he had; he hadn't particularly meant to, either. Humans, as a rule, he found off-putting, despicable and lowly. But fun. Yes, he'd always found them fun to toy with, that much was true. At least, for a little while.

Now, he found himself wondering about this girl. As he drew nearer to her - she, completely oblivious to his presence, of course; one saw business types a lot in this area, after all: it was the posh district - he belatedly recalled that they'd met. So, she'd been more than just a photograph in a folder listing her eligibilities for candidacy of the scholarship he'd been offering. They'd shook hands, only she'd had brown hair back then. She'd done something to it; it was now blonde. She didn't only want Barbie's lifestyle, she wanted to look like her, too. That amused him slightly, enough that it turned his human mouth in what might have been mistaken as a smile.

Perhaps it was merely the uniform, he reconsidered, as he imagined stroking her fair hair. Six years ago, she'd been bony and unremarkable to look at; even her hand had been bony; it had put him off immediately. Now, he found himself pleased by the way her body filled out the uniform she wore. He could have laid his hands on her right then and not even felt repulsed.

He recalled the sound of her voice. A child's voice. She'd thanked him and that was it. She'd had nothing elaborate to say, not like in her letter, which he'd always suspected had been instigated by someone quite a bit older than herself. He wondered what she would sound like now.

Reaching the shopfront she was so immersed in, he gazed into the glass for a glimpse of her eyes, a strange mixture of green and grey that might have been a thousand times more compelling, more grabbing, in blue or brown.

And that was when he remembered.

Bonnie.

"Sweetheart-"

The girl spun away from the window, and he was sad to see the sight of that ass disappear, but he now had her face to make do, and those disgusting, awful eyes that, fixed on his, were actually very educational. They were truly the mirror of her feelings, he thought. And they made it very clear she did not recognise him as he had her. Humans and their memories.

"I thought you looked lost," he told her smoothly. A lie, of course.

"I'm not lost," she replied.

Ah, that's right. That's what you sound like. "Well, that's good to hear."

She looked away from him, then, as though thinking he might just leave. Just like that.

He nodded to the window before them. "What is it that you find so intriguing in there, if I might ask?"

"Nothing. I was just looking."

It was strange. Her voice held little emotion, almost none, yet her eyes were so... revealing. And yet, no, she'd already had time to cloak them too. Now, in her eyes, there looked back the eyes of any typical teenager the city - even possibly the world - over.

"Looking?" he asked, pleased at the charm in his voice. He wasn't without his people skills, he thought.

"Yeah. They've got some cool stuff. I like to look at it, you know... sometimes."

"You, ah... You don't ever want to do more than look at it? You don't ever just feeling like marching into the store and saying to the cashier at the desk, 'I'll take it!'?"

"I'm not a geek," the girl said. "Besides, it's filthily overpriced."

He shot a short glance at the model plane, in particular, the pricetag. "Mmm..." _Yes_, he thought, _sometimes the pricetag can present... difficulties. _"I like that. That descriptor. But you know, there is always a way where there is a will. Hmm, did you know that?"

She rolled her eyes. They looked like marbles, rolling in her head. Rather grotesque, he thought. "That's what they say; but they'd say anything these days, wouldn't they? They want us to believe we're capable of the power of freewill and that as much as we exercise it, it never grows tired because it's like a muscle, it just grows stronger; but that's boll! Pure boll!"

"Hmm... You do make a good point," he agreed. Then he reached out, that small distance covering the space between their two bodies, and slipped his hand around hers. He hadn't imagined on the thrill that shot through him at doing so, so that it was almost painful to keep holding onto it, or to focus his gaze on Bonnie's eyes. But he did.

And saw that understanding had dawned in them, at last. He's not worried for your safety, girl, he never was; he just thinks you look like a nice piece of ass on a lonely, slightly chilly night.

It was just for a second, or perhaps not even a full second; a fraction of a second, but her eyes darted back to the window, to that perfect model plane in the window, spotlighted nicely with just the right amount of shadows and light to entice the eye in further.

She didn't say anything, but she stepped closer to him, obviously having made up her mind. She wanted that plane, and she'd do what she had to so that the next time she came by the shop, it wouldn't just be to look, it would be to hold that box in her hands and truly marvel.

In the chilling night air, he felt the heat of her closing in on him when she drew nearer, reaching out its tentacles to embrace him... or was that arms?

He didn't fight it.

But, as normal as a person might, he turned and led her back to his car.

.

"Do you... do you want me to do anything in particular?" she asked, shifting in the seat so that she could pull the skirt of her dress straight and to its proper length covering her legs.

He hadn't started the engine or driven off, but it was dark in the car; the interior lights off, and the only illumination coming from outside, or the vehicle's various glowing buttons, dials and indicators.

He placed a hand on her leg, almost on her knee; just the palm, at first, and then, slowly, he curled his fingers around to cup her thigh. Her legs were cold, she hadn't worn pantyhose. This time, there was no thrill; just a girl's stone cold flesh held in the grasp of his hand.

The chance that she might say 'no', or that anyone might see and chance it objectionable, had passed. That particular thrill was dead and buried.

He pushed his hand along her leg, higher. Just there was where she began to feel warm, alive, again.

She tried not to jerk, and she didn't, but he caught the flinch, even if she'd thought it too dark for him to have seen. The batting of her eyelashes, he'd heard that, too. The way her chest had tightened into a hard, little lump. He could imagine _that_.

Then his hand was there, had reached its destination. Warmth. She wasn't at all aroused, though. It was the sort of warmth, he imagined, a child might bestow upon a trusted, loyal friend; their teddy bear that they'd had practically for-ever. It wasn't an adult's warmth. Not in the least naughty, as some would term that sort of thing.

He cupped his hand around that warmth, or as much of it as he could, thinking about bears, about something cold and without emotion: Here, let me hug you; let me hold you and love you so you can love me back, too. Have some of my life, just be sure and give it back, 'kay. You're my good friend, my bestest friend. I love you.

Bonnie's breathing wasn't erratic; it was cautious, heavy, slow, kept carefully from descending into frightfulness at finding a complete and total stranger's hand _there_, even though she'd said 'yes' to it, in her own 'round about way.

"Sweetheart, have you ever done this before?" He knew, of course, by her responses to his touch that she hadn't, but he was waiting for the lie, just waiting for it. She'd hate to fluster him, of course; No, you're my first; she'd hate to land all that on him, so she'd say, Yes, yes I have. I've done it many times before.

"I've never wanted to before. Not with any real... passion."

He conceded himself stumped, then. What was she thinking now? What had she just said?

"I think... we could make a real go of this," she told him, and the darkness, with just that tiny shimmer of the city's lights glowing in a small corner of her eyes.

At least there was that. He wouldn't have to look at those awful, zombie-inspired eyes she sported.

"I think we could," he replied, with enthusiasm.

Then she moved suddenly, and he had to retract his hand. She was coming over to him; she'd never even considered the fact that he mightn't want her to, that he might've wished to maintain that physical distance between their bodies, between their energies, with just that tiny touch linking them, like tiny, tiny thread; a small, dwindling spark in the vast endless dark of the human universe.

She'd figured that he wanted to be close, that he was looking for a teddy bear, but a real, living one this time; one that could move its _own_ arms to hug, or to hold, when perhaps all he'd been seeking was a tool, a toy, something to hold an ampule of power over for as long as he wanted, to keep under him, under his control, and then throw it away when it no longer interested him; when the trick was done and the thrill of it had worn bare and disappeared into nothing and so much dust.

So she'd pegged him as that sort, hey? Which meant she trusted him, thought him just a sad, lonely old man, and loneliness had never driven a heart to destroy, even those that came close out of a caring, a kinship, for the loneliness they both shared and wished no longer to.

She was setting down her rules: This is what I want you to be. But wasn't it his game, wasn't the ball in his park? He'd been the initiator of the game, and she only the acceptor; he was clearly the master, and she the one to obey.

"Sweetheart-"

She'd crossed that divide already, and now the warmth of her, the closeness of her, had him trapped, caught, devoured. It was too nice, so nice, he only wanted it to stay; just right there, or maybe... come a little closer.

He cursed his flimsy, whimsical human form, then, for its betrayal; for its childishness and idiocy, for its lack of consideration for the skill, the mastery of the game, the thrill of which would far greatly outweigh that of giving in to the human touch. That was nothing but a physical need, but what he sought to quench was the psychological need. Pity his body had had other designs.

He sighed softly, supposing he might have guessed it earlier; might have guessed it by his initial attraction to the girl's body. Well, one couldn't win them all, could they?

It was dark now, mostly. To Bonnie's eyes, it certainly would be. She'd blocked out the most of the light coming in from the windshield in front of him when she'd settled herself in his lap.

She might've had Barbie's hair, he thought, but she didn't have Barbie's flyweight.

"What... what's your name? I mean, only- You don't have to tell me. Only if you want to."

"David," he replied, going for a softer tone, as she had, a tone that said, 'I've noticed you. I'm a friend. It's okay.'

"I'm... Do you mind if I tell you my name?" She'd still had to hesitate. She'd seen that on television, he supposed, read about it in books. The man has the upper hand. She still hadn't seen how she'd so royally ruined all of that already by her simple act.

"No. That's alright."

"I'm Bonnie," she told him.

"You have lovely hair, Bonnie," he returned. Disgusting!

Bonnie smiled. Not a false smile, a really, really real one.

He felt disgusted by that smile even more than he'd been by her taking the compliment he'd handed her without a second thought; her hair might have been real, but the colour was fucking fake! It was a lie! And she was an idiot! A fool!

"Thanks. So..."

"So...?"

"What do you... what do you want to do?"

"What do you want to do?"

Where someone else might have thought _Serial killer_, Bonnie didn't. She pressed herself forward so that their faces where almost touching, and paused. It was too dark for her to see what to do next, how to proceed further. She made a noise like a gigglish puff.

He decided not to further prolong his own agony, and kissed her.

She tasted like orange and poppy seed muffin, and Starbucks mocha latte.

He let her pull back for air, and break the kiss.

It wasn't a lover's kiss, but had she never kissed anyone before? Her lack of skill to the point of not being able to breathe annoyed him. Surely no-one could truly suck that badly at it.

Apparently, though, he'd had the great luck to stumble upon someone who did - in real life.

She giggled again; the same puffy, suffocated-with-a-pillow-in-its-sleep giggle as before, which made him wonder if there was a rule against laughter in her house, or if her mother had grounded her from the library for a week because she'd laughed cutely when a boy had told her she had beautiful eyes.

With that thought in mind, and that he would be taking her out of her carefully constructed comfort zone, he leant in for another kiss. Not a little kid's playing-a-game-when-the-grownups-weren't-around-to-see kiss, a proper, adult kiss. Needy, heated, consuming. That sort of kiss.

The sort of kiss, he realised belatedly, that could string you along.

Bonnie had never been kissed like that before. Ever. It was... frightening and a bit shocking, but she liked it. Somebody, for once, noticed; they saw her, and they wanted her, despite everything they'd seen, the good and the bad, they wanted her more than anything else in the world, just at that moment. And that was power. She had power. Bonnie! But poor, little Bonnie - she was always still poor, little Bonnie - Bonnie didn't care at all for that power, she wanted that other thing. She just wanted someone. Hello, Bonnie. Yes I'll be your friend, yes I think you're pretty cool.

Poor Bonnie.

And he just wanted... Bonnie.

If this was what kissing was always like - well, okay, normally like - it struck him that it was definitely something he'd been missing out on. But why? The next thing that struck him was that he was a gullible fool! At least, he was playing at one. And he _wasn't_! It was pathetic, downgrading - and he'd fallen into that trap _himself_!

Still, it did nothing for his wanting Bonnie. It only made him want her more. But not really Bonnie. It wasn't really Bonnie he wanted at all, it was just her body. Yes. Oh, yes! He definitely wanted that.

Whilst they were kissing, Bonnie's hand found his leg. She was just resting it there, but it cleared away the cloudiness in his thinking, for a moment, and made him think, _But wait, there's more._

A whole lot more.

He pulled her closer, and there was Bonnie's heart - bang, bang, bang on the door - there was Bonnie's breath, her chest rising and falling, her breasts, pressing against him softly, quietly whispering their offer, 'We're nice, too. We're so soft. Pick us next.'

He felt overwhelmed. Yes, they did seem nice, and soft...

His hand on Bonnie's back sunk lower, to rest on her ass, and she sort of froze, making a muted sound in the back of her throat that might have indicated absolutely anything, but sounded ridiculously, hideously like the beginnings of a sob, and snapped him, too, back to his senses in a flash.

He stopped kissing her.

And then it was just... mostly dark.

It took her a long time to say, very rushed, "No. I'm sorry..." but he couldn't work out what she was apologising for.

"I-"

The cogs revolved.

"I want to... too," she finally got out.

A little of her hesitation must have rubbed off, because he started to think, _Want to-_, and then it fell neatly into place, mid-thought: _Sex._

With-

A human!

He felt ill. And more ill still.

To even have been contemplating such a thing with a human-!

_But it's Bonnie_, a small part of him waged. _Don't make Bonnie feel... inadequate, useless, shitty; just plain, fucking bad; don't... deny her. She doesn't even mind that it's you, for her first time. She said so; you heard her. She thinks you're nice, cuddly, safe. Like a teddy bear. How many people can you honestly say you've met who'd think that of you? Isn't it... funny? Indulge her a little. She's funny. She's real damn funny!_

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Bonnie replied honestly. Not just, 'Sure', or 'What are you waiting for?' She wanted him to believe she was sure, and he did. He imagined she was a very bad liar. She had a couple of good, handy masks, but on this occasion... well, she'd never had to formulate one for _this_ before!

It was a good chance for her to work on doing that.

"I'm just..."

She felt for a way to unzip his pants. He involuntarily jerked away from her hands, but it was just the back of his head, hitting into the headrest. There was nowhere to go.

Bonnie froze, unsure what to do next.

"O-okay," he told her. _Oh, that was- How old are you? Give it a little- Damn it, something! Anything!_

"Here. Let me." He let his fly down.

"Okay. Thank you." Briefly, as he was taking his hands away, and she was returning hers, their hands touched. "My mom thinks it's awful," Bonnie told him. "My... hair."

"It's not awful. Your mom's just jealous."

Bonnie laughed. That was awful.

_Mystery solved_, he thought, and hoped it was her one and only laugh of the evening.

"It's just... I-I don't know..."

He stroked her hair. "It's soft. It's great."

"Thanks."

She rubbed her hands over the tops of his legs, for a moment, as though she thought he might be cold and would do well with it. The sound irritated him, but it was the waiting for something to happen that was killing him.

"Okay."

He yanked her to him and pressed himself to her, against her, pulling her closer, closer, his hands on her hips, drawing her in, right in close, on her ass, working that friction.

He let out a long sigh. Bonnie gasped, as though the air was suddenly missing, just gone. "Bo-"

"Ye-yes. I'm okay," Bonnie breathed, sucking in quick breaths. One of her hands clasped the edge of the seat tightly, the other the door's armrest, her fingers curling into the hard, plastic hole that people might use to stash a lighter, or something else. She rocked against him. Then her hand flew away from the armrest and the holder, and she grasped at his back, asking for something without saying so, asking for more: Yes, m-m-more.

"I need just-"

Bonnie nodded, her long hair sweeping across his hot cheeks, suddenly cool, a soft, caressing breeze, for just a fleeting second, as she pulled back, giving him room, pulling at her own clothes, at the hem of her school dress, easing down her underwear.

It was only for a moment.

Then she was back with him. Hot, heavy, rocking and rolling, enticing, sliding against him so perfectly, nudging, so warm. He had an erection, he realised.

"Bonnie- Bonnie-"

"Please. Please do it." Her breath brushed his face, making it suddenly too hot, and he clasped her hips, moving underneath her, lifting her, getting into a better position.

"Bonnie."

"No. I'll go here. Under- Here. You just- Let's change-"

They moved about, knocking into things they didn't really care what they were, and into each other, until, finally, Bonnie was underneath and he was on top.

Bonnie was out of breath. She didn't do a lot of sport.

She played with the knob for the chair, and it fell back suddenly. He clasped a hand under her leg, and lifted it, and moved it to the side - Bonnie pushed her hips up off the seat, hoping to help - and he drove into her. She made a noise that sounded like a bad coupling between a cry and a cough, and bucked her hips up to meet his again. He pulled out, and just before he came out all the way, pushed in; out again, in again. It didn't ease the tension, it just made it more imperative. He thrust into her faster, tipsy with all of the new sensations, harder. She beckoned him with her hands, sliding into the small of his back, untucking his shirt, and sliding her skin against his, melding them there, too.

He drove into her with urgency, and she accepted him, more and more each time, hard, hard, a little more; Oh, yes.

He forgot about the car. They weren't in a car anymore. He didn't care where they were. It didn't seem to matter much. Just Bonnie, and him.

She gasped, moaned. She whimpered, "Yes," too many times, as though the hardwiring in her brain had overheated and was glitching. "Yes. Yes. Yes." He loved her voice when she said that.

He pushed into her. Come on, Bonnie. I know there's more. Show me what you're hiding, let me in. And when he was, he gasped, needing the air. 'Bonnie. Bonnie. Damn, Bonnie, you feel so _good_.' He'd have said so, but he didn't know if people could talk when they could hardly breathe.

She tremored underneath him, her skin so warm and soft and touchable as he ran his hands up and down it. Her stomach, her breasts, the little space between them that he could trace up to her throat, or down to her sternum, her tummy. Her hand splayed across his backside, squeezing a bit, her other hand rested on his chest, rubbing skin on skin soothingly.

She bucked against him, and squeezed her legs tighter around him.

He thrust harder. And suddenly everything was warm and clear, and he was ridiculously, insanely sick with pleasure. He panted.

Bonnie had stopped making any noises. She was breathing hard, her mouth open.

She was so tight. He could feel her orgasm, spurring his own. He reached for her cheek, and kissed her. She didn't even object. She kissed him back, holding onto this one thing for dear life, holding onto his lips, his mouth, his breath, sharing her own, taking his in return. She clung to him, gasping, kissing him, over and over, shivering, and he was glad she was there, underneath him, and so warm, so solid. And just Bonnie.

.

Bonnie had beautiful eyes. They weren't beautiful by classic definition, but he thought they were so beautiful, like the stars at night, but better. They were Bonnie's. Bonnie's eyes.

Bonnie admitted she had a weakness for mocha lattes, and laughed. Could orange and poppyseed muffins be called a weakness.

'I have a weakness for Bonnie,' he felt like blurting. But, no, he didn't. He didn't always do everything he wanted.

He'd run into Bonnie during the lunch hour. He'd not seen her for, what was it, a week. And there she'd been. Bonnie. Oh, God, Bonnie, you're perfect!

He'd been looking for a table, and so had she, so they'd just sat down together. Neither had said anything, at first. Bonnie had sipped her mocha latte and coughed and laughed. "That's hot!"

He smiled.

"Oh!" She sounded sad; she made sad eyes at her muffin. "Too hot drink! You're mean! Poor muffin!"

He laughed. Bonnie talked to her food.

She swung her eyes back up to his, and reached across the tabletop to wipe away a dusty smudge from off his cheek with her thumb.

He blushed.

"Sorry," she said, "I wasn't pinching you."

"No," he agreed, smiling. Since when did he smile? For real? Not just in condescension, or victory, sinister victory? He couldn't remember, but he didn't care, either.

"If I were, I'd be more subtle," she replied. "Not so in your face." Her eyes twinkled.

"Hmmm..."

She nodded, _yes_, and smiled.

He had the strange urge to touch her hand, which he fought.

"I'll prove it then," she pronounced. "I forgot the sugar. Could you get up and go over there and bring some back over. Two sachets for me, please."

Clearly, she hadn't forgotten the sugar, it was right there on the table beside her drink - she'd quickly stashed it out of sight, in her lap, under the table - but he did so, anyway, and returned to the table.

"Come around here. Don't make me lean over the table. I'm not a monkey with long arms, to which there is, of course, the downside of limited hugging capacity, and getting things down from high places."

He walked around the table. She smiled nicely at him, and he put the sachets down by her cup. Then, without his having made much of it, her hand snuck away from her drink, and around to pinch his butt.

"Oh my goodness! What sort of rude people come to this place!" she cried, in pretend outrage and obviously real amusement, and mouthed, 'It was me! I'm to blame! Rude, rude girl!'

He grinned.

"My mom says, if a guy pinches your butt, it means he likes you," she told him, and cried, "Guess what?" suddenly, brightly. "Do you think it means the same thing when a girl does it?"

"I don't know," he said.

'Yes,' she mouthed. "I like you, I like you, I like you."

"I like you, too."

She dropped her face into her hands, and shook her head.

And that was when he'd thought. _Show me those beautiful eyes, Bonnie._

Bonnie's eyes were beautiful, to him.

.

It was amazing how quickly a person's mood could turn, he thought. One moment, he'd been smiling, happy, chatting to Bonnie about the weather for the week, and ice-skating - something she'd always wanted to do, but never had - the next, he hadn't.

"Sir?"

The sight of Dent standing beside the table had wiped the smile right off his face, and he snapped, "What is it, Mr. Dent."

Bonnie looked around and smiled at the new arrival.

Dent didn't smile back. What was Mr. Banning doing with this... smiling girl? "Nothing," he replied, to Banning's earlier question. "It was just a surprise to see you here, sir."

"A surprise?"

Dent glanced around the café suspiciously, as though people sitting down to drink or eat or chat in public was highly irregular.

"Isn't it!" Bonnie stepped in. "I was surprised, too! Someone I know! O-oh! What if it gets back to my mom that I've been splurging on latte and muffins." She scratched her ear. "That could be kind of a little problem."

Dent frowned at her. Banning felt the need to yell at him to leave and quit with the looks already, but he couldn't do so in front of Bonnie, of course.

"Yes, Miss Roman is one of our scholarship students," Banning quickly covered.

"I totally am!" Bonnie concurred, and pointed at Dent suddenly, grinning. "And who are you!"

"A work associate," Dent answered plainly.

"Whatever!" Bonnie leapt to her feet and grabbed his arms. "Sit! Whaddo you want to drink? Bonnie's shout!"

"I don't."

"You don't."

"I'm not thirsty."

Bonnie grinned, biting her lip. "You're so strange! But in a super, awesome way because you're funny and we can't all be funny, which is sort of sad, but it's awesome 'cause now you're here and I'm running my mouth incessantly!" She laughed. "Oh, God, I'm sitting down." She fell back into her chair, and sighed. "Cake! Or... they have," she looked over his shoulder, "whatever those things are called. But my mom got me one once, at the train station, and they were quite nice actually."

"I have already taken lunch," Dent told her.

"Cool. I'm totally a slacker. If I can take, like, an hour for lunch, I will. But, you know, high school people. The definition of slack, right! Especially the girls! That's why I had to get out! They never talk about anything - _sane_! It drives me _crazy_! And, um, I'm not quite sure how mad I am right now, but when they get talking all there bollshit, excuse my cussing, I just want to rip every little hair out of their heads!"

She laughed. "You guys have totally got those, _She needs a therapist_ eyes! Like, right now! That's what you're thinking, right! Therapist time! Not dentist time, _therapist_ time!"

Frowning, Dent replied, "No," prompting her to leap out of her chair and hug him.

"I don't even know who you are, but you're so my best friend! You're the best! Awww! Can I get you one of those happy face things, at least. I'll totally get one, too, and I won't even throw it at anyone. Ever. I'll eat it. It looks yummy."

"I'm not hungry."

"I bet you're just saying that because you don't want to rob a poor girl blind!"

"No."

Bonnie glanced at Banning, pouting. "Can I at least get you a happy face biscuit whatever it's called? I got my mom one once, and she picked it up an chucked it at me and started crying her eyes out. Her boyfriend had just dumped her. But now I'm sort of super scared of them."

"I think you should stop coming here with your mother," Dent suggested.

"You're right, you know, but I have a fatal weakness for mocha lattes. It's, like, ultra high maintenance. It kills me, right?" She bounced up and down on her toes. "Who wants a biscuit? Me, me, me! Somebody say 'yes', pleeeeease!"

Dent gave her a weird look. Is this how all teenaged human children behaved? As though they were missing half the cogs to their clock.

Bonnie slapped a hand over her mouth. "That's my PE teacher," she moaned. "I'm just going to die, now, if that's okay with everyone. Dying... now..." She sunk back into her chair, and shuffled down a bit more in her seat.

Dent looked over at the teacher.

"Don't look at him, Albie...! He can read minds."

"He can?"

"You bet ya!"

"How does he do that?"

"He's an alien," Bonnie whispered. "I know! Freaky or what? Aliens who drink..." She glanced over her shoulder with a wince, and widened her eyes. "Mango frappe!" She whipped back around in her chair. "We're doomed! They're gonna blame us for that, I bet. Mango frappe equals _total Earth destruction_!" she said, mimicking a deep, sinister voice. "That is so weird! That man is weird! Man, alien, weird!" She put her hands over her eyes. "Mango frappe! I can't look!"

"Bonnie?"

Bonnie dropped her hands from her face, and straightened in her chair. "Bonnie who? I'm Hannah."

"Very funny, Bonnie."

"Oh my God! You mean... _that_ Bonnie! We're cousins! But talk about a spoiled bee-utch!" She coughed. "I mean, brat."

"I won't argue there," her teacher agreed.

"Meanie!" she whispered, but he'd already walked away. She stuck her tongue out at him. "One day, we so need to tell the waiter/waitress/serving person to give him _berry_ instead of mango!" she told Dent, glancing at him with wide, manic eyes. She laughed. "Did you really think I'd do it? I'm just a talker, I'm too chicken to actually do anything. My mom might find out, and chuck a whole packet of happy face cookie things at me, one after the other. Death by cookies! It's so... dorky, you know."

"No."

"Well, yeah, you kind of have to have experienced it firsthand to really get it. But it," she did a freaked-out voice, _"freaks_ me out!" She narrowed her eyes, cutting her hand through the air to demonstrate a flying cookie. "Flying saucers! My mom's an alien, you know." She sighed. "It's true. I'm a hybrid. Human-alien hybrid. I even have superpowers. But they're lame dorky. Whenever my mom's in a bad mood, even if she doesn't chuck biscuits at me, or ban me from watching the Klingon news, which is actually kind of imaginary, so don't ask me how she can ban me from watching it, but she _does_, I know!" She frowned. "Or it could just be that she always makes meatloaf." She stared, and bit her thumb. "Yikes, that's done it! Nobody's saying a word!"

Dent stood up.

Bonnie leapt up, too, and hugged him quickly. "Bye, Albie! Have a good day!"

"That's what I always try to do," he replied, glancing at Banning uncomfortably. The girl was nuts! Why was he hanging around with her? She wasn't some secret, schoolgirl assassinette, was she?

"Me, too!"

"It is the best policy."

"Policy! Now I really want that biscuit." She pouted. "Does anyone else think _policy_ and _biscuit_ sound kind of alike?"

"I don't think so," Dent replied.

"Damn it! I'm a freakazoid!" She made a gun gesture with her hands. "Just call me 'Zoid! Freaka Zoid! Man, that sucks!" She slapped her forehead with a hand. "You better have a good day, Albie, or I will find you, and I will torture you with happy face cookies!" she told him, prodding him in the arm.

"I'm terribly afraid."

She laughed. "Bye, Albie."

"Good-bye."

She sat back down. "Do not think about the biscuits, Bonnie," she droned. "Do not think about the biscuits."

.

Bonnie poked her tongue out and licked the side of her lips, staring at the ceiling for a couple of long moments, then she dropped her eyes and looked at David. "Sorry," she said. "I can pay, if you need therapy."

He shook his head.

"Do you totally not want to talk to me ever, ever again?" she asked.

"I'm seriously considering it," he replied.

She grabbed his hands from across the table. "No, please! I like you. A lot. Even when you... don't talk. Talking is not all it's cracked up to be, you know. I talk too much, look what it's gotten me. A couple of _Freak_ looks, a few _Mad person_ looks, a lot of _Which aliens abducted her and kicked her back out of the spaceship because they couldn't stand her. Let's sue_ looks. I'll... keep my mouth shut next time, I promise! Unless it's super, super imperative that I don't, or there's a dude with an alien ray gun asking me to take him to my leader. The dude doesn't know what he's asking for. My mom'd terrify him, or just assault him with happy face cookies. I don't think that'd make for good human-alien people relations."

She looked at the table. "Sorry for embarrassing you. That dude probably thought I was your kid or something. I'd be super embarrassed. Like, _Go to your room, and you're grounded for a year_ embarrassed."

"Bonnie."

She let go of his hands and jumped to her feet, grabbing her tote bag from the back of her chair, then raced quickly around the table and hugged him. "I'm sorry. Have a great day!" she chimed in a hurry, and ran away, toward the door.

* * *

2.

His week hadn't gone so well; did it really ever? He'd decided, after work, to go for a drive, then, as he'd been passing an icerink, he'd remembered Bonnie; Bonnie, who'd always wanted to go.

He didn't stop; he kept driving. He put on the heater. It was cold outside. He drove around town, not thinking about anything; not Thera, not the plan, not Dent's ridiculous incompetency, or Ethaniel's friendship with the human woman, Laura Keating, who was really a pain in the ass, just like Ethaniel - what a perfect match - or anything.

Up ahead, he watched a woman walking with a little boy; the pair holding hands. The woman stopped, then, and turned to look at the boy, taking his arms so that he'd look at her, too. Then she took off her coat, and placed it around him, helping him get it on; then she gave him her beanie: There, it's not so cold now anymore, is it?

The woman and the boy kept walking, the woman glancing back once, twice, three times - he shouldn't have been driving so slowly, she'd think she'd garnered a stalker - 'til they came to a street lamp, and the woman pulled the little boy close and held him tightly, glaring over his shoulder at the dark car that had been following them.

He stared at the woman, holding that little boy under the street lamp, and her long blonde hair.

Bonnie.

He accelerated the car and stopped and pulled up to the curb under the light.

Bonnie hadn't moved. She was standing very still and very straight.

He left the engine running, turned up the heater before getting out, and pulled open the door. "Do you want a lift?" he asked. "It's damned cold out here."

"We're right, thanks," Bonnie said, in a stiff voice. "You go on. Never you mind about us, sir. We're nearly home. It'll be nice and warm when we get home."

The little boy whined and looked around at him. "I'm hungry."

Bonnie rested her chin on his head and said quietly, "I know you are, baby, I know you are. And you know what, when we get home, we're going to have something to eat."

The little boy sniffed. "But Mommy won't let us in."

"Then Mommy's just going to have to call the cops 'cause I'm putting a fucking paver through the lounge room window, darling," she breathed.

The little boy started to cry.

"Baby, I'm sorry," Bonnie told him. "Did I scare you?"

"Uum-hmm." The little boy nodded.

"I didn't mean to. I wouldn't really smash the lounge room window. Glass costs money, a lot of money, and that's what windows are made of, did you know that?"

"Uh-huh," the little boy sniffed.

"What are you staring at?" Bonnie snapped. "Can't you see I'm having a private conversation here, so why don't you just go and... wax your _so expensive_ car or _something_!"

"Bonnie."

She backed away, her eyes turning dark. "Stay away from us!" she told him. "You stay away from us!"

He held up a hand to say it was alright, he wasn't an enemy. "Bonnie, it's me. David. It's David."

Bonnie shook her head. "I don't know anyone named David," she replied, in a hard voice.

He stepped closer, into the circle of light. "Bonnie, it's David."

She sniffed, hugging the child tighter. "Go away," she told him, then shouted, "Go away!"

"Bonnie, please, I can- I can help you."

"That's feckin' right," she growled. "You can help me by _going A-WAY_!"

The little boy started to cry again.

Bonnie stroked his back. "Danny, Danny. Shh, Danny."

"I'm hungry," he sobbed.

"I know, Danny baby."

"Are you hungry, Bonnie?"

"No, Baby Bear, I'm not. But I'll make sure you get something to eat when we get home, 'kay. Bonnie's word."

Danny sniffed, wiping his nose on the arm of her coat. "'Kay."

Her teeth had started to chatter, but she bit down on her lip so Danny wouldn't hear and worry. "Let's go home, Baby Bear."

"Okay, Sister Bear," Danny agreed, brightening a little.

David shook his head, and strode over to the pair; enough was enough.

Bonnie backed away, shaking her head. "Get away!" she screamed. "GET AWAY!"

"Bonnie! Bonnie!" He grabbed for her arm, caught it, and lost it again when she pulled it away, attempting to turn and run. "Bonnie!" He finally caught hold of her arm, and held it tightly. "Bonnie, let me get you and Danny something to eat. What do you say?"

"Go to Hell!" she spat.

"Bonnie, act your age."

"Fuck you!"

"Bonnie, I only want to help."

"I'm hungry," Danny whined. "I want to eat."

"It's alright, Danny boy, you will have something to eat. At home."

"But Mommy won't let us in."

"I'll talk to her. She'll let us in after that, Danny Bear. After that, she will." She yanked her arm out of David's hold.

"Please. Bonnie..."

"Get back in your stinking fucking car and fuck off!" she hissed.

"Bonnie-"

"Don't you 'Bonnie' me!"

"Please. Your brother's cold, and hungry, and you're frightening him."

"You're the one frightening him, Dr. Banning!" she snapped in a mean voice.

He put his hands up. "How? How am I frightening your little brother, Bonnie? Danny? I am frightening you, son?"

"Don't you fuckin' call him that, you pervert!" she spat.

He sighed heavily. "Danny, old boy?"

"I'm not frightened," Danny said. "I'm hungry."

"Bonnie? Did you hear that? He's not frightened. No harm done. He just wants something to eat. Why don't we all go and have something to eat, hey?"

"Nuh-ah!"

"Bonnie."

"I'll scream. Someone will come. Your ass will be thrown in the slammer."

"You have been screaming, Bonnie," he pointed out. "No-one has come."

"I'll scream louder," she threatened.

"Bonnie, can we please go with the man and eat something?" Danny asked.

She laughed, and slumped. She rested her forehead against the little boy's. When she looked up, she was crying. "I fucking hate you!" she hissed to David, on her way past him, on the way to the car.

"Sure, Bonnie," he said quietly. "I know you do. Don't I know it."

.

The diner was brightly lit and warm inside; Danny sat by the window and watched the snow falling outside; Bonnie sat beside him, across the table from David. Under the artificial lights, her skin looked horribly off-colour, not like it should. He wondered how so much could change in a week; how Bonnie could suddenly hate him so much.

The little boy chewed on a chip dipped in tomato sauce. Bonnie wasn't eating. "Do you want one of my chips?" Danny asked her.

"No, Danny Bear, you know I avoid ketchup like the plague."

"That's okay," he told her, picking out one of the chips without much ketchup on it, and wiping it on a serviette. "This one hasn't got ketchup on it."

Bonnie shook her head. "I'm not hungry, baby."

"Your tummy told me it was."

She tilted her head. "It did not!"

"Yes it did!" he protested. "In the car, it did."

"That isn't true," she said flatly, "it was lying to you."

"No it wasn't."

"It was, Danny Boy."

"Nope," he said.

"Yep," she said.

"Nope.

"Yep."

Danny frowned and fixed David with a serious stare. "Sir, could you please tell my big sister that she needs to eat something?"

"I'm not hungry," Bonnie replied, sing-song.

"Bon-"

"Shut up, David."

"That isn't a very-"

"Think I care, hmm? Don't you even think it! I don't give two fecking hoots what you think, mister! Not two feckin' hoots!" She turned a sharp glance on her little brother. "And you'd best be eating those greens, too, young man, or I'll had your hide of my boots!"

Danny made a face and picked up a bean and put it in his mouth, chewing it slowly. "Are you hungry, yet?"

"Give it a rest, Danny."

"I want you to eat something!" he hollered.

"And I've said, No, I ain't hungry. I've said it enough times that if you blab t' me about it one more time, just one more time, I'm gonna get up out of this chair and walk out of here, leavin' you here on your own! You hear me, Danny Bear! Do you hear me?"

He sniffed, looking at his plate and not at his sister. He nodded; he heard her.

"Bonnie-"

"Shut up!"

David stood up and walked around to where she was sitting and grabbed her arms, yanking her to her feet. "That's it! You're coming with me and we're going to talk about this!"

"Fuck you!" she laughed.

"That sort of language is not going to change a thing, Bonnie. Danny, stay here, okay. Your sister and I will be right back, in just a few short minutes. We've just got to talk for a while."

"Okay," Danny nodded.

"Good boy," David told him, and pulled Bonnie after him, towards the door.

She grabbed hold of the doorframe, but when it shut and hit her hands, she let go. "Help!" she hollered. "Help! He's a pervert! Help me!" Nobody came to help; there was nobody outside to hear her yelling and screaming.

She started a scuffle, trying to get free, but he wasn't letting her go. He walked her over to the car, parked in the dark behind a large tanker of something highly flammable, and backed her up against one of the doors.

"Bonnie, you are going to eat something, and that's an order. I can eas'ly have you hospitalised, if you want to take this thing down that road. Then who d'you think's going to be around to look out for Danny when your mom just doesn't feel like it?"

"Fuck you!" she spat.

"No, Bonnie, fuck you! I want you to start co-operating, do you hear me?"

Her eyes laughed at him, even if her voice didn't. "I'd sooner die!" she breathed, her tone deep with determination.

He let go of one of her arms, prompting her to attempt escape, but when he had the gun pressed up against her temple, she got very, very still. "You want to die, do you?"

She didn't say a damn word.

He clicked the safety off. "Do you?"

She just stared straight ahead, saying nothing, not moving.

He tucked the gun into the back of his pants, and took her chin in one hand, forcing her to look at him and not just stare blankly ahead.

She averted her eyes, so she wouldn't have to look at him.

He sighed. "Bonnie, I'm askin' you not to do this. I've put the gun away, and I'm askin' you. As one person to another. I'm pleading with you. Don't do this to yourself. Don't hurt yourself."

He closed his eyes for a moment, and rested his head against hers. "Bonnie, listen to me-" He fell short, giving up, and just stood there, in the cold and snow, with Bonnie.

Out on the road, a truck and a couple of cars passed, snapping him back from his wildly roaming thoughts, and he gazed down at Bonnie's blue lips, her chattering teeth. And he kissed her.

.

Bonnie didn't respond at all; not to his kiss, not to his hand on her back, rubbing it in at attempt at comfort. She'd turned into ice, just like the snow, falling all around them.

He opened the car door, and bundled her inside, walking around to get in himself. As he was doing this, she didn't make a single move at escape. He got the engine running, and put the heater on. He made sure the vent were all open to let the hot air in. Then he shuffled closer, into the seat beside hers, and leaned over and firstly began rubbing her legs with his hands, then her arms.

She didn't move, or wince, or make a sound. If he hadn't seen her chest rising and falling, he'd have thought she might have stopped breathing and died.

"Bonnie, what's wrong? Why won't you tell me? What have I done wrong?"

He bent his face to hers, and kissed her, placing one of his hands at the back of her head.

For a minute, or two, she didn't stir, then she bit down on his lip so that it bled, really hard, and started scratching and hitting and kicking, anything that she could do. "I HATE YOU, YOU DUMB FUCK!" she screamed, then she took a handful of his hair and smacked his head into the window.

After that, she didn't hit him again, but she cried.

He felt sick, that's how much the sound of her crying disturbed him. He wasn't going to believe that it was the knock to the head he'd taken, even when he could still hear his ears ringing. He wasn't a fighter like Ethaniel or Tawrens, that was why he'd created Dent, and right now, his head hurt like he'd been run over by a truck, or a couple of trucks, but something else hurt more, and if he had to attribute a human word to it, he'd have said it was his heart.

Bonnie hurting hurt him. He didn't know why; he didn't even want it that way, it just was.

A small hand, Bonnie's hand, wet with her tears and still too cold, and shaking from lack of energy, found his face, and she buried her face in his shoulder, sobbing.

He didn't move. He didn't know that it would do his head much good to. But when Bonnie lifted her face to his, and pressed her lips to his, blood and all, he kissed her back. He damned well did that.

When she laid him back on the seat, he didn't struggle or fight. And when they made love, he wasn't cruel or nasty to her, he just loved her.

The snow continued to fall outside, Danny was probably still working away at his chicken schnitzel, and David and Bonnie held each other as though they were the last two people in the world.

.

"Hello there!" Laura said brightly, waving at the little boy sitting alone eating what looked to be an adult's meal. The little boy had just looked up to meet her gaze, perhaps meaning on saying something back to her, when Ethaniel strode over and tousled her hair as though she was somebody's cute kid he'd seen at the farmer's market on Saturday.

She sighed. "I suppose the coffee's going to be here shortly," she said.

"Yes, very shortly."

"Oh good," she told him. "If it's very soon, it might distract me from kicking your-" She remembered the little boy, who was now watching this new drama with interest, and fell short. "Ethaniel, Ethaniel, Ethaniel."

"That is my name," he said.

"Don't wear it out!" she chimed merrily.

"What?"

"Forget it."

Ethaniel frowned, then directed his gaze to the little boy. "Is he alone?"

"Why don't I ask," Laura replied.

"Okay," Ethaniel agreed, stifling a yawn. "Are you tired, Laura."

"I can see you are."

"I am."

She stood up. "I'll be right back."

She walked to the little boy's table, and sat down beside him, scooting into the booth. "Hi, I'm Laura."

"I'm Danny," he said, picking at his chicken schnitzel.

"Would you like me to cut that up for you, Danny?" she asked.

"Yes please," he said.

"Okay." She smiled, picking up his knife and fork.

He grinned back. "Okay!" He watched her cutting up his chicken into bite-sized pieces with a frown; he'd have to remember that that was how it was done the next time he had chicken schnitzel.

"Hey, Danny, is your Mommy or Daddy around? I thought I'd like to have a chat with them; there's not many grownup people around to talk to at this time of night, and my friend's..." She glanced back to the table she'd been sitting at previously; Ethaniel had crossed his arms on the table and looked like he might have fallen asleep, "kinda sleepy."

"I think he's sleeping," Danny told her.

"I think you may be right," Laura agreed.

Danny smiled. "You're funny," he told her, patting her messy hair down; the parts that he could reach, anyway.

"Hmmm..." She smiled back.

"My Mommy's at home," he told her. "My sister and the man went outside to talk. I told him to tell her to eat, but she keeps saying mean words to him instead."

"Your sister went outside? And she left you here alone?"

"I know I'm not supposed to leave. I have to finish my food. She'll come back in a minute. I hope she's not hitting the man. She was really angry because Mommy wouldn't let us inside the house."

"No!"

"Mommy's friend isn't coming back, and she got mad. She won't let us back in. At least until tomorrow, I reckon."

"That isn't right," Laura told him.

Danny shrugged, popping a piece of chicken schnitzel in his mouth. "Shit happens."

"Oh my! And you're right, it does, and when it happens, it really happens!" Laura stroked his hair. "It was good to talk to you," she told him. "If you need someone to talk to, I'll be right over there." She nodded to her table. "Okay?"

"Okay," he said.

"See ya!" she told him brightly.

"Bye."

She walked back over to the other table. "Ethaniel?"

"I wasn't sleeping," he told her, lifting his head up and sitting up straighter.

"I know. Okay, his sister is supposed to be around here somewhere. Stay awake. Keep an eye out. Mmm?"

"Nope, nope, nope," he told her, rubbing his face. "Your eyes are supposed to stay in your head, Laura. Both of them."

She laughed. "Of course they are."

He reached over and touched her hand, smiling. "Laura, your hair looks funny like that."

"Oh, I bet it does," she chimed, and looked around for signs that someone had remembered that they'd ordered coffees and might be on their way over with them in hand. "Please, make it quick," she muttered.

"Laura?"

"I'm still here."

"Why did your parents only ever have one child?"

"I never asked them," she replied, smiling at him.

"Okay..."

"Ethaniel."

"Hello, Laura."

"'Hello, Laura.'" She nodded. "What about you? Have you ever thought about starting a family?"

"Laura, I'm not even human," he told her, with a big smile.

The waitress, who'd finally made an appearance, shot him a very funny look, and Laura smiled at her; he didn't know what he was saying, it was the sleep deprivation talking.

"And if I did get the ch-"

"If you did get the chance..." Laura said.

"There is only one person I would consider to have bear my children."

"Someone you've been holding a secret torch for," Laura interpreted, grinning.

Ethaniel frowned. "I wouldn't say that."

The waitress finished pouring their coffees, and Laura nodded. "Thank you."

She walked away.

"No?"

"No," Ethaniel replied.

"Do I know this 'only one person'?" she asked.

He laughed. "Does Laura know-"

Laura patted his hand. "Coffee?"

"Coffee," Ethaniel agreed. "Much coffee."

She passed him his cup. "Are you watching it? Watch it, or it'll beat it out of here as soon as you've taken your eyes off it. It's just raring to go."

"Laura means Ethaniel will spill it," Ethaniel said.

She pointed a finger at him. "You, my dear, are a mind reader."

He laughed.

"Alright, alright. Coffee time."

"Time for sleep."

Laura frowned, shaking his shoulder. "No, not time for sleeping. Laura doesn't want to drink her coffee on her own, she'd feel like a fool."

"Laura is not a fool," Ethaniel told her.

"She'd still feel like one," Laura argued.

Ethaniel stood up unsteadily and walked around the table and sat in the chair next to hers. He looked into her eyes. "Laura, no," he told her.

She stroked the side of his face. "No, Laura's kidding. She's having a joke, isn't she. Yes, she is."

Ethaniel rested his head on her shoulder.

She stroked his arm. Well, it wasn't all that bad, to be honest. She glanced at her coffee, judging if it was cool enough to sip without scolding herself, and took a sip. "C'est la vie, Laura, as they say, in old Paree. Rock 'n roll! That's amore! God, this stuff is awful!"

"Hey there, Baby Bear! How ya doing?" Bonnie squeezed into the booth beside him and wrapped her arms around him tightly.

"Good," Danny replied, smiling at her.

"Hey! Did you do this all by yourself, Danny Boy?"

He shook his head, and pointed to the table across the room. "Laura helped me."

Bonnie nodded. "Oh, that was very nice of Laura, wasn't it?"

"She wanted someone to talk to. Her friend's asleep."

Bonnie smiled. "Sure is. What did you guys talk about?"

"Christmas," Danny replied.

"Did you?" Bonnie cried, grinning and tickling him.

"Yes!"

"Well, you know what? You've been very good this year, Danny Bear. I think Santa might just have something special for you!"

Danny frowned. "Are you going to eat something?" he asked.

She sighed, and patted his head. "Be right back," she told him, planting a kiss on his head.

He sniffed. "Okay," he said.

.

Laura noticed that Danny's sister had arrived back and gently squeezed Ethaniel's hand. "Ethaniel."

He sat up, taking his head off her shoulder.

She smiled. "The little boy's sister is back."

He looked over at the little boy, then to the girl at the counter. "Good."

"Yes, it is. Are we ready to go?"

"Okay," he agreed.

"Why don't we ask if they have rooms for the night?"

"That's a good idea."

Laura nodded. "Come to think of it, Laura's a little tired too," she told him.

He frowned. "Why are you talking that way, Laura?"

"You're right, it's absurd. No more talking about myself in the third person."

Ethaniel looked around them. "The third person?" he asked.

"Mmm, it's a... Can I explain later?"

"Of course, Laura."

"Great!" She stood up. "Let's see about that room, then."

"Okay, Laura."

.

Laura walked to the end of the diner, intending on ducking into the service station office to ask if they had rooms, when the girl caught up to her.

"Hey, ah, Laura- My brother said your name was Laura. Thanks- thanks for helping him out. You really didn't have to, but you did anyway. It was real great of you to do that for him."

"That's alright," Laura told her.

The girl nodded, scratching her ear. "O- Cool. Well, thanks again."

"It's not a problem."

"Have- have a good night."

"Thank you. And you, too." Laura waved to Danny, who waved back. "Goodbye."

"Bye."

The girl walked off.

Ethaniel glanced at Laura, frowning. She smiled, and held out her hand for his, then she turned and walked into the service station office.

.

Bonnie was eating a chicken schnitzel when David returned, and Danny slipped out of his chair and under the table, reappearing a moment later to hug him. "Thank you, mister," he said.

David patted his head. "That's alright, Danny." He glanced at the boy's empty bottle of Coke. "Would you like another drink?"

Danny sniffed. "Can I have a hot chocolate?"

"You sure can, Danny." He refrained from calling the kid any of his older sister's endearments; there was no need to alarm him.

Danny grinned. "Okay," he replied, grabbing David's hand and holding onto it.

.

"Are you sure your mother is going to let you back into the house?" David asked her, patting Danny's arm. The little boy had fallen asleep in the seat between them.

"Of course she will. We're still her kids."

"That didn't stop her from locking your out the first time."

"It's late. Much later than Danny's bedtime. I'm sure she won't expect us to stay out all night."

"I'll wait out front with the car just in case," David told her.

She tilted her head. "Don't. She'll just-"

"At the end of the block, then."

Bonnie sighed. "Fine, but I'm telling you-"

"Okay, okay. I get the message." He leant over and kissed her softly. "If I don't see you again tonight, have a good one, alright."

She rolled her eyes. "Because it's been such a fan-fucking-tastic night, already, hasn't it!" she said.

He took her hand. "It might have been worse."

She shook her head, and looked out the side window. "Yeah," she muttered.

.

She traipsed back to the car, carrying a sleeping Danny in her arms, held protectively to her chest, and huffed when he got out to open the door for them both. "She's just sleeping," she told him, begrudgingly.

"Mmm-hmm."

"Shut up."

"I didn't say a word."

"I know you're thinking it."

"Not at all," he replied. "I was thinking something entirely of a separate nature."

"Sure you were."

"Oh, of that you can be sure," he told her quietly, and closed the door after her and Danny. He'd been thinking about how, one day, she would make a good mother to some little child, even though, well, she wouldn't really. There was always the plan, after all. And in the plan's grand scheme, she would never get that chance, the chance to be anyone's mother, or anyone's wife. Her, Danny, and every other miserable human on the planet.

He got back into the car, and closed his door, refraining from a sigh. Still, it couldn't be helped.

* * *

3.

Ethaniel woke in the morning to find Laura sleeping beside him, her face very close to his, as though she'd rested her head on his shoulder in the night. Her hair was messy, but she looked peaceful, so he didn't wake her. He just wanted to watch her sleeping for a couple of minutes, to see her without any of the complexities or troubles of the world weighing on her conscience.

She looked very beautiful that way, he thought. Then again, she always looked beautiful. That was just Laura, wasn't it. Beautiful.

She shuffled closer, and opened her eyes. "Hey, you're awake."

"I am awake," he agreed.

She smiled. "Is it Christmas yet?"

"Not yet, Laura."

"Can I have a hug, anyway?"

"You can always have a hug, Laura," he told her. "You don't need to ask." He sat up, helping her to do so also, and put his arms around her in a hug. She was very warm, which he liked.

"I'm sorry for, ah-"

"It's alright, Laura," he told her. "I don't mind. I actually quite like it."

"Oh, well... I'm glad to hear that," she said.

"You were a very comforting presence, even if I was not awake to..." he fell short.

"You too," she told him.

"Thank you, Laura."

"You don't need to thank me," she told him. "But I think a coffee would be nice."

"Shall I make some?"

She leapt off the bed. "Not if I do first!"

He smiled, and followed her to the small kitchenette.

.

"Where have you been, young lady?" Bonnie's mother asked, opening the door for her and Danny.

"Spare us, Mom," Bonnie told her without ado, and picked up Danny and slipped past her into the house.

"Young lady, you will answer me when I ask you a question!" her mother called after her.

"Maybe when you stop throwing us out of the house in the middle of the night, I will!" she snapped, and stalked away.

"You fucking bitch!" her mom yelled after her.

"I've got to have got it from somewhere!" Bonnie screamed back, and slammed her bedroom door.

.

Banning stopped in the open area lounge, frowning at the man who'd apparently fallen asleep on one of the couches, and wondered if he was dreaming, or just running diagnostics.

"Sir?"

The chink of ceramic on wood drew his attention to the coffee table, and the two cups of coffee one of the office girls was holding. Her name was Donna, he recalled. Donna Brown.

"How are you this morning, Mr. Banning?" Donna asked, walking around the small coffee table and sitting down beside Mr. Dent.

"I'm fine, Donna," he replied.

"That's good to hear," she told him.

"Yes." He nodded, "And, Donna."

"Yes, sir?"

"Thank you for the coffee."

"That's okay, sir."

He walked away.

"Mr. Dent." Donna patted his arm. "Hey, you. You didn't sleep here all night, did you?"

Dent opened his eyes and frowned at the darkly-complected woman.

"I've got you a coffee, sir," she told him, with a smile.

"I don't drink coffee, Donna," he replied, still frowning.

"Don't you?" she asked.

"No, Donna."

She looked at the coffee. "Is there anything else that I might get for you, then, sir?"

"Nothing, Donna."

She took her hand off his arm. "Alright."

He leaned forward to grab the mug, and handed it to her, and stood up. "Good-bye, Donna."

"Goodbye, Albert," she replied, and took a sip of her coffee. What a strange fellow, she thought. Definitely strange. But... cute, very cute.

She shook her head at her silly self, and stood up. The coffee needed sugar. A lot more sugar. Everyone always said she went overboard with the sugar in her coffee, but that was just how she liked it.

Ren glanced across at her, when she was stirring sugar into her coffee at the kitchenette. "You do know that guy's loko, right?"

Donna shrugged. She didn't care.

"He's probably from Mars. And does anyone get what's with the twitching? Like, hello, drug addict!"

Donna stared at her quickly. "That's not a very nice thing to say!"

"Prescription drugs aren't any less funky than illegal ones, honey!" Ren replied. "They all bad!"

Donna rolled her eyes at the other woman. Whenever Ren really wanted to get something through to her, she always talked like she'd seen black people do on some television soapie, as though she thought it might make it easier for Donna to understand. It just made Donna want to laugh, most of the time.

Today, she didn't laugh.

"Donna? Give it up, girl. He jus' ain't made that way. Me an' all the girls in the office reckon he's gay. How come you don't?"

"I don't know him," Donna replied. "I'm not going to cast judgement on him for something that might be untrue. Besides, if a person's gay, then they are. That doesn't change the fact that they might be a really good person, underneath, just the way a straight person might be. Sexual preferences have nothin' to do with a person's morality, Ren; that's somethin' else enti'ely."

"Well, girl, that one ain't sane, so don't go bettin' all your horses on that fact alone. There's somethin' wrong with that one that you or I couldn't even conceive of, girl. All the girls agree."

"I don't care what all the girls think, Ren. I don't care one iota."

Ren shrugged. "It's your life, sister."

"It damn well is," Donna replied, and walked away, back to the couch, to finish her coffee. By God! What a load of nosy gossips!

.

"Sir?"

Dent stopped, on his way down to one of the labs, and frowned at the woman. "Donna?"

"I was..." she nodded, "wondering..."

"What were you wondering, Donna?" he asked.

"If we could maybe go to lunch sometime, to... together?"

"I'm sorry, Donna, but I don't think that's going to be possible," he replied. "Good day to you."

She frowned, and watched him walk away. "Why not?" she called out after him, hurrying to catch him up.

He stopped, and turned back to her with a frown. "Why not what, Donna?"

"Why can't we go out to lunch together sometime, Albert?" she asked.

"I'm not looking for a relationship, Donna," he answered her flatly.

She blushed. "That's... I wasn't inferring that we make it a date, Mr. Dent," she rushed. "It'll just be... as friends."

"I don't have friends, Donna," he said.

"Everybody has friends!" she argued.

"I do not."

"W-well," she struggled to find the right words, "I'll be y- a friend. If you'd like?"

"Donna, I've already told you. Must you press the point when you already know what my answer will be beforehand?"

"I... can't help it," she said, more quietly.

"And why can't you help it, Donna?"

"Because... I like you," she whispered.

"Right then, Donna," he told her. "That's easily fixed. Donna, I don't like you. Understand? Now scram and get back to work!"

She took a step back. "You scram and get back to work!" she told him suddenly.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, boy!"

"Oh really? Is that how you want to-"

"Mr. Dent?"

The pair whipped around to see Banning standing at the corner.

"I'm right on it, sir," Dent replied, rushing over.

Donna rolled her eyes. "Good day, Albert," she said. "Mr. Banning."

Banning gave her a quick nod.

Dent scowled. "I am not a boy," he muttered darkly.

"Come along, Mr. Dent," Banning told him.

.

"You know what, Ren," Donna told the other woman, sitting forward in her chair to peer over the partition between their cubicles, "I think you're right. He's a total jerk!"

"That's too bad, Donna," her coworker told her.

"No it's not," Donna replied. "He's a jerk, and I'm glad I was finally able to see it. Good riddance!"

"Poor boy," Ren sighed.

"Oh, you be quiet!" Donna snapped.

"All of us girls were saying, how Donna Dent actually has quite a nice ring to it," she replied.

Donna snorted. "Your phone's ringing, Ren," she told her.

"No it ain't."

Donna punched in her number on her phone's keypad quickly.

"Oh shit, it is!" Ren grabbed the receiver quickly. "Reinette speaking. Hit me!"

"Get back to work, Ren," Donna told her.

"Argh!" Ren put her phone down. "Donna Ray Brown, you are a wee pain in the backside!" she groused, pronouncing the _the_ 'thee'.

"Baby, you got it!"

.

Bonnie wasn't at Starbucks, that day, so David decided to take a walk, instead, and, walking past a park, spied her sitting under a tree, eating a sandwich and reading some sort of textbook. She didn't notice he'd come over 'til he asked, "What's that you're reading?", and she looked up with a frown, then offered a shrug.

"French," she said, merely.

He sat down beside her on the grass. "Are you studying French?"

"Mmm-hmm." She wrapped her sandwich back up in its plastic wrap, and stowed it back in her school bag.

"How are you? How's Danny?"

"Looking forward to starting school next year," she replied, staring away across the park to the children's playground.

"Danny's four?"

"And a half," she said.

He sighed, and rested a hand on her leg. "Bonnie... would you like a coffee?"

"No thanks," she told him. "I'm right."

"Would you sit with me then?"

She looked around at him and asked blankly, "Why?"

"Because I'd like that," he replied.

"I want a job," she said.

"What?"

"I want a job so my mom can't tell me what to do with my own Goddamn money!"

"Bonnie... you're still in school."

"Then an after-school job!" she snapped.

"And what about Danny? How's Danny going to like you never being around?"

"He's just going to have to grow up!" she snapped.

"He's four, Bonnie. Don't you think you're asking a bit too much of a four-year-old? Shouldn't he have the chance to be a child and only a child?"

She dropped her head onto his shoulder, moving closer. "It's because of Danny that I want to do this!" she said, quietly.

"You don't have to worry about that, Bonnie. If you need money-"

Bonnie laughed, pulling away from him like lightning, and brushing his hand off her leg. "You have no feckin' idea, do you?" she shouted, tears in her eyes.

"Then marry me, Bonnie."

She snapped her face around to stare at him in shock and amazement. "Are you fucking mad? Do you even listen to the things you say?" She laughed.

He reached for her hand, and held it in his. "Bonnie, I love you. And I'd love if you'd agree to be my wife."

She snorted, shaking her head. "No way! You don't know me, and I sure as Hell don't know you!"

"Bonnie, I love you. Are you really going to tell me that you feel nothing at all for me?"

She laughed. "Fucking Hell, David! If we've known each other for two weeks, that a mighty feckin' long time! You can't seriously expect me to answer that with the implications you're going to put on it!"

"I know what I want, and I want you to be my wife."

She met his eyes. "Did you ever think I don't? I don't know what I want? Or what I want to be, one day? Who I want to be with, one day?"

"It's not one day, Bonnie," he told her. "It's today."

"And you're fucking freaking me out, okay!" she shouted.

"I love you."

She dropped her face into her hands. "I don't know how to deal with this, David."

"Then just say 'yes'. Yes, you'll be my wife."

"You're mad."

"I don't care if I'm mad, or if you think I'm mad. I don't care about any of that, I won't care, as long as you agree to be my wife."

"It'll never work out," she told him, through her fingers.

"That's a chance I'm willing to take," he replied.

She lifted her face up, and dropped her hands. "Then I want to see it!"

He frowned. "See what?"

"The ring, you Dumbo!"

"What ring?"

She laughed, really laughed, and fell back on the grass, still laughing.

He lay back on the grass, beside her, and touched her arm to draw her attention. "I'll get you a ring," he said, "if that's what you want."

"Oh, you idiot!" she said.

He frowned.

She sat up, suddenly, and straddled him. Then she leant down and kissed him. "I don't need a ring," she whispered, in his ear, "I've got something better. I've got you."

.

Donna made a face. "If you'd like to step out of my way," she said, "I could get through and get out of your hair."

Dent shrugged.

"Step aside, young man," she told him.

"Or what?"

She whipped around and took off pelting down the hall like a shot.

He walked after her.

She stopped at an elevator and pressed the button. "Come on, come on, come on." Glancing behind her, she saw that the hall was empty. Good. "Come on." She looked behind her again and backed into the elevator doors.

"Why the hurry, Donna?" Dent asked.

"Are you following me?" she accused, with narrowed eyes.

"I was merely waiting for the elevator, the same as you are."

She laughed.

"Why do you laugh?"

"I don't believe you," she told him, stepping away from the elevator minimally and straightening up.

"Then you might want to seek professional help for those trust issues you have, Donna."

"Professional help, is it? Why don't you get professional help?"

"What for, Donna?"

"For being a total jerk!"

He stepped closer. "Say again."

"A jerk!" she told him loudly.

"I don't know what that is, sorry."

She huffed. "Oh yeah, professional help. Alright then - an inconsiderate, egotistical bastard!"

"Is that what I am?"

She widened her eyes happily. "That, and so much more, Albert baby!"

He frowned. "Are you... taking the Mickey?"

"I'm just waitin' for the elevator, same as you, honey," she said, with a smile.

"'Honey!'" a woman's shocked, incredulous voice declared from the end of the hall.

"Ren-" Donna began.

"Oh my God!" Ren screamed, and made haste around the corner.

"Ren, Goddamn you, get your skinny ass back here right this instant!"

"Oh my God!"

Donna stomped her foot. "REN!" She dropped her shoulders. "Fuck me!" she cussed, then turned swiftly back to Dent. "You don't know me, you don't know my name, you've never heard of anyone called Donna Brown in your whole life, anyone suggestin' that there's anythin' going on here is plain out of their crazy minds!"

She turned and stalked away.

"Donna."

"How come you suddenly know my name?" she snapped, turning back to face him. "Forget it, mad boy!"

"For the record," he replied, "I am not mentally-"

"Save it for a rainy day!" Donna told him, and walked off.

He narrowed his eyes, and walked after her.

.

Donna stalked into the employee lounge determinately, and up to the women all chatting about her latest hookup, who all looked up when she approached. "I'll have you all know that whatever Ren's been telling you, it's just not-"

Someone grabbed her arm and pulled her around, cutting her off before she could finish her point.

Her eyes widened. Oh fuck!

He smiled, and kissed her.

"Showoffs!" Ren muttered, and turned away to pour herself a glass of water.

.

"You stupid little prick!" Donna hissed in a voice that smacked of _Unfair!_, and punched him in the chest with her fist, with just enough force to make her point. "Now those gossip-starved vultures are really going to think we're an item! I hate you! Stalker! Freak! Jerk!"

"Bastard!" he suggested.

"Argh!" She punched him again, and ran a hand over her hair. "Damn it! Buy me a drink!"

"You can't do that yourself, Donna?" he asked.

"An alcoholic drink, you moron!" she snapped, then turned on the spot and grabbed his arm. "I'm getting plastered - let's go!"

"If you say so, Donna," he replied.

.

Donna sipped her Long Island Iced Tea, staring out the window at the people walking by outside on the sidewalk, and the clouds pulling in over the city like a curtain closing on a Broadway stage show.

She nudged Dent's shoe under the table with her high heel. "Why'd you kiss me before?"

"I was... how do you say... getting payback," he told her, smiling.

"Bastard."

"Yes. I am," he agreed.

"Alien cyborg intent on exacting his revenge against the morally-corrupt, emotionally-halfwitted humans!" she joked.

"Not exactly."

She laughed. "You're pretty funny! When you're not 'getting payback'!"

He crossed his arms. "I apologise. The intention was not to amuse you."

"Oh. Okay." She sipped her drink again. "If you don't drink coffee, and you don't drink iced tea, what do you drink?"

"Water."

"Cryptic," she replied. "Is this water in another dimension, perhaps, because... I'm having trouble seeing any water?"

"I was not thirsty," he merely replied.

"I'm sure they always say not to wait until you are, you could be unwittingly damaging your internal organs quite seriously."

He frowned.

"Mmm." She nodded.

"I don't have internal organs."

She grinned. "Oh. I get it. You're a plant... person. Should I water you, then?" She shook the glass in her hand from side to side.

"I don't think that will be necessary," he replied.

"God, you are weird. A tip, hey! Some stuff, honest or not, chicks just don't dig. If it's that sort of stuff, you should just keep your mouth shut and smile like you're having a real good time, even if being struck by lightening and dying is preferable."

"I'll keep that in mind," he said.

"Do." She sighed. "Maybe I should have just stuck with the Mojito. This stuff's kinda got a kick to it." She stood up, suddenly. "Lady's break! Catch ya later, alligator!" She walked off.

Dent frowned. First he was a jerk, then he was a bastard, then a plant, and now he was an alligator. How intriguing, he thought. Donna obviously needed glasses. Badly.

Donna returned a minute later, and grabbed his arm. "Oh look," she said, "is that my stuck-up bitch sister? With her stuck-up bitch husband? Could it really be? Hold me, baby, I think I'm about to pass out." She snorted. "Let's go, Gonzalez."

"Donna!" a woman cooed, strutting over in a flash. She was certainly dressed expensively, with pencil-thin heels, and lots of sparkly things.

"Grace!" Donna returned, then plastered a great big fake smile on her face.

"My baby sister! Who's this guy?" Her eyes narrowed on Dent.

"He's not a guy, sis. You're insulting him. He's an alien cyborg."

Grace stared at her sister strangely. "What? He's some freak wack job?"

"Hey! No fair, sisio! I thought I was the freak wack job here!"

Grace smiled. "You are! Don't tell me you're expecting freak wack job babies, too?" she gasped.

Donna shuffled closer to Dent, and put her arm around his shoulders. "What if we are, Gracie?"

Grace threw up her hands. "That's it! I don't know you! I have no sister! I am an only child! Goodbye, go away, preferably crawl away to curl up in a hole somewhere and die! I never want to hear from you again!" With that, she stalked away, spiky heels clacking loudly.

"What a fucking bitch," Donna replied cutely. "That's my big sister alright!"

"No, I think there should be a stronger word for what she is," Dent replied, with wide eyes.

Donna patted his arm. "There, there; it'll pass. It always does."

He stared at her. "She looks a lot like you."

"Yeah," she muttered. "Like I said, sisters."

"I think I'm starting to understand."

She made a face at him, and punched his arm. "Bitch!"

"Very cute," he told her.

"I always am."

.

They'd just stepped into the employee lounge - well, he'd stepped into the employee lounge - Donna was quite drunk and swaying here and there, even with his arm around her shoulders, though still managing to laugh manically, when Banning strolled over.

"Mr. Dent. Donna?"

"I am not drunk, I can guarantee you!" Donna slurred.

Dent let go of her quickly, and she fell smack, right onto the couch.

"That was very considerate of you, Mr. Dent," Banning told him. "Why is my employee drunk?"

"Her sister is a rich bitch with a rich bitch husband who is convinced - her sister is convinced, that is - that she is a freak wack job and is having equally as freakish and wacky babies with another such wack job, sir."

"I see, Mr. Dent. Such a lovely vocabulary our Donna has, don't you think?"

Dent started to nod, but was interrupted by the sounds of Donna throwing up.

"I shall be in my office," Banning declared suddenly. "See to it that Donna is... properly taken care of, Mr. Dent." With a smile, he walked away.

Dent made a face. Yuck! Just yuck! "That isn't very cute," he muttered sadly.

* * *

4.

"Would you mind not sitting so closely?" Dent asked, glancing around at Donna who was seated beside him on the couch, crunching on snacks from a packet of Twisties. "I'm going to be deaf, if this keeps up."

She shrugged. "No can do, baby-o. The people think we're a couple. No-one else but yourself to blame for that. Couples sit together. Close your ears." She held the packet out to him. "Twisty?"

"I think I'll live without," he said sourly.

She tossed her head. "Spoil sport, you!"

He looked away from her, and brushed the crumbs off his leg. That was just gross.

"Hey, you two!" Ren said, waltzing over casually. She froze, her eyes going to Donna's snack. "You're eating Twisties?"

Donna rolled her eyes. "Dah!"

"Who's not watching her waist, eh!" Ren teased.

"Do you think Albert baby cares. In which lifetime, Renny?"

Ren frowned, studying Dent's expression. She leant back. "Are you sure he's not a ro-bot?"

"Actually," Donna replied, "he is. Well, an alien cyborg."

"That is far out kinky, Donna," Ren told her.

"I know!" Donna smiled. "Cute, huh?"

"No."

"Piss off! You're just jealous!"

"No."

"Piss off anyway!" Donna sniffed.

"I am!" Ren told her, with wide eyes. "Later!"

"Go away!" Donna moaned.

"You have such a lovely way with conversation," Dent told her.

She grinned manically. "I know." She placed a hand on her chest, causing him to wince - crumbs - and said sweetly, "It must be your wonderful influence, Albert."

"Oh, great, blame me!" he muttered.

"I just did."

"Ha-ha."

"I'm glad you find that funny, Albert," she told him. "I must really be starting to grow on you. Next thing you know, it'll be candle-lit dinners in posh French restaurants, strolls on the beach by the soft moonlight, babies-"

He choked. "You know I don't eat, Donna. We've been through this before."

She widened her eyes at him. "Hit me, bitch!"

"Oh, really?" He raised a hand.

She stared at him in outrage. "Try it and I'll bite your hand off!" she snapped, and got a sad look. "Jerk!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, was that not a literal invitation?" he asked, falsely considerate.

"No, I'll really bite your fucking hand off!" she snapped.

He moved away from her, on the couch.

She scowled, and shuffled closer again.

"Stay away from me," he told her.

"No."

"Yes."

"No. You're my boyfriend."

"I'm no-one's boyfriend," he told her, annoyed. "I'm a robot."

"I ain't never seen you robot dance," she replied. "Until then, I retain the right to freedom of scepticism."

"God help me," he muttered.

"Nobody's gonna help you, dilly. You're in it for the long haul, now. Or should I say, just in for it." She grinned.

He looked away from her, to the door. He looked at her suddenly. "I'm warning you, girlfriend, I have alien connections!"

"Oh, boo, who hasn't, cutie?" she replied. "And, for the re-cord, that is so old!"

He pointed at her. "Recycling! Everything old is new again."

She put down her packet of Twisties and balled up a fist, punching it into the palm of her other hand in a menacing gesture. "That's it. Pounding time!" Grinning, she got to her feet. "Why aren't you running, Albert?"

"I'm a robot, Donna. I'm not scared of some weak, puny, little human girl with a foulmouthed vocabulary!"

She screamed, and lunged at him.

Banning shook his head. "Mr. Dent!"

"Help me, sir, she's trying to deactivate me!"

"Stay back!" Donna warned. "He deserves it! He threatened me with aliens!"

"Aliens, Mr. Dent?" Banning asked, smiling.

Donna punched Dent in the shoulder. "Aliens are not real!" she told him. "If they were, I'd Goddamn be with one of them and not you!" She crossed her arms firmly, glaring. "You _suck_!"

Dent glared back at her. "Get a vacuum cleaner to do that for you instead!" he snapped.

She laughed, then put a hand over her mouth, and leapt up, off him. With her hand still over her mouth, she ran off.

"That girl is not human!" Dent muttered.

"Making nice with the natives?" Banning asked.

"Nice? I wouldn't go so far as to call it 'nice', sir," Dent replied, and stood up quickly. "You called."

"You noticed? How nice, for a change."

"Yes, sir."

.

"I dunno, honey, I don't think it was supposed to be taken as a 'let's roll in the hay', frankly," Ren told her. "That boy is mighty strange, mighty strange. I just don't think stuff like that occurs to him on a regular basis, if you catch my drift."

"At all, you mean?" Donna said.

"I mean," Ren agreed.

"That isn't true!" Donna interjected. "You all saw him kiss me!"

"He was trying to be funny, Donna, he weren't kissin' you for no other reason."

"I don't know," she said, twitching her lips, "I thought it was kinda-"

Ren shook her head. "Honey, I don't want to hear that."

Donna sniffed. "He won't talk to me unless I'm being mean to him. It sucks."

"Then why don't you break up with him?"

"Because I don't want to."

"I think you should get wantin' to," Ren advised her.

"No," Donna decided. "I like him. Even if he's half the time off his rocker mad! He's adorable, the other half the time!" She drew a horizontal line in the air in front of her. "I can't say 'no' to adorable."

"That's sad, babe. Real sad."

"But it's my choice. My sadness. Hhh!"

"That it is, sister, that it is."

.

"R2!"

"Donna, it's time we faced the facts. So, let's do. This is my official notice of termination of our relationship."

"You're dumping me?" she asked, outraged, her eyes widening.

"Yes."

She stared, then picked a donut biscuit out of the packet in her hands and threw it at him. "You prick! You bastard! You jerk!" She chased after him, tossing biscuits at him.

"Littering is against the law," he called back to her. "You could get fired for that."

"I don't care!" she replied miserably. "Keep running, meanie, or I'll get you!"

.

Laura rubbed her cheeks with her hands, and sighed, glancing up when Ethaniel returned with a magazine and their hot drinks. "Thanks."

Ethaniel passed her her drink and put the magazine down in the middle of the table and pointed to the front page.

She leaned over to read it, and promptly set her drink down. "He's getting married!"

"That's what it says in this magazine."

Laura pinched her cheek, and winced. "I'm officially not dreaming."

"No, because then I would have to be dreaming, too," Ethaniel told her, frowning.

"Or you could just be a figment of my imagination."

Ethaniel blinked, thinking about that. "Is it not irregular for you to be dreaming about me?"

"Nope," she replied. "Err..."

"It is not?"

"No..."

He smiled. "Don't be embarrassed," he told her. "I dream about you, too."

"Oh." She smiled. "No, I won't be. Embarrassed." She reached for the magazine and started reading the article, flicking to the continuation page when she'd done with the front page piece. "It neglects to mention to whom, however," she said, a little put out.

"Perhaps another Theran?" Ethaniel suggested.

"I don't know," Laura sighed.

Ethaniel sat down to think about it. "Why do you think that is?" he asked, a while later. "That he's marrying."

"He's hoping it'll get him a vote with the folks who are really into good, old-fashioned family values?" Laura suggested.

Ethaniel frowned. "Perhaps," he said. "Is everyone not 'into' good, old-fashioned family values?"

"No, not everyone, Ethaniel," Laura replied, and imagined him thinking to himself, _It is as I feared._

Of course, she was sure he'd realised this fact, already, but she understood that it was still hurtful to think that not most everyone was included in the 'caring' category; it hurt. Whether he was human or not, and whether she was or not, for two intelligent species to act so callously towards the very idea of life and all of its implications and complications and interconnections, was very, very hurtful; and if only a few of them acted thus, that did not take away the hurt. It remained a memory, a realisation, that would never be forgotten, and would never be far from the front of one's mind: not everything in the world, the universe, was good. Good could exist, _did_ exist, but so did its opposite. That was life, that was living.

.

Donna kicked the tyre of her car. Stupid car! Stupid car! She stood very still for a moment, thinking, then decided that she would just have to walk to the nearest bus stop or until she came across a taxi cab.

She was walking by the side of the road when a car pulled alongside.

"Would you like a ride, Donna?" Dent asked.

She made a face at him. "Not unless it's in an intergalactic taxi - away from you!" she told him.

He shrugged. "It's getting dark."

"Ooo, and I'm so afraid. The zombies are waiting! Ooo! Ha-ha!"

"I was just offering."

"Well why don't you go and offer someone _else_!"

"I will then," he said.

"Good for you!" she snapped, and crossed her arms and stopped. She didn't start walking again until the car's taillights were very far away, almost too far away to see. Then she lifted her chin up, decided that she wasn't going to sulk over it, and went on walking. Stupid robot!

* * *

5.

That night, it was hard to sleep. Even with Bonnie beside him, fast asleep herself. His mind kept wandering back home, back to Thera, to Altor. He'd promised, a long time ago, that she would be the only one. And then she'd died, and he'd broken his promise.

Don't think about it, he told himself, but then he couldn't help himself from thinking of Altan. His little Altan. Why had Altan had to die, too? If only she'd been spared.

Bonnie turned over, in her sleep, and rested her head on his chest, and he sighed. The past was the past, to remain in memories, but never again to be revisited in life. Perhaps he would do good to leave those old memories where they belonged, on Thera, with Altor and Altan, sleeping now peacefully, where no more harm could come to them ever again.

.

"He was almost married once before, you know," Ethaniel told her. "To a Theran woman named Altor. They'd even had a child. A daughter. Her name was Altan. But they died."

"They died?"

"In the war," Ethaniel replied.

Laura was quiet, for a moment, then she asked, "Did you have a-"

"No. No."

"Oh."

"What about you, Laura?"

Laura frowned. "I've had boyfriends before, yes, but never anyone I'd felt I might one day end up marrying. It was fun, whilst it lasted, I had a good time with that other person, but it came to a point where it wasn't as fun anymore, for whatever reason, for me, or for him, and then, that was when it ended. We both moved on." She sighed.

Ethaniel frowned.

"Ethaniel, that won't happen with us," she told him, standing from the chair she'd been sitting in and walking over to stand beside him. "We're friends, Ethaniel. Friends are not the same as a boyfriend or a girlfriend. One is a sexual partner, and sometimes, they can even be more, they can be a friend, but they're not always a friend; the other is... an emotional partner, someone to share your ups and downs with and pull through it all, no matter what, someone to confide your secrets in. Friends stick together, they don't break up. Like you and Tawrens, best friends until the end. I'm your friend, Ethaniel."

"Do you consider me to be your friend, in return?" he asked.

She smiled, and shook her head. "That goes without saying, Ethaniel. You're my very good friend, and you always will be, and I hope I can be your very good friend in return."

"You are, Laura," he said. "You are."

.

"Baneen!"

"Altor!"

He opened his eyes. The light coming in from the window was weak; it was morning.

"Were you having a bad dream?" Bonnie asked.

He frowned, squinting at her. "Yes, it was just a bad dream," he told her. "It's over now."

"Bad dreams suck," she said, and leant down to give him and hug. She must have woken earlier than he, because she was dressed in her things for school already. "I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep," she told him. "I watched some television for a while in the other room. I hope that's okay with you. I didn't want to disturb you. Sometimes, I just don't sleep well."

"It is okay," he replied, though he felt hurt that she'd left him to watch television.

"Anyway, I've gotta go," she said, and leant down again to kiss him, before standing up and walking to the bedroom door. "Bye!"

"Goodbye, Bonnie," he told her, and, when she'd left the room, closed his eyes again. Was he really doing the right thing in marrying Bonnie? Did he really love her? Was she already started to lose interest in their relationship, before they'd even married?

He sighed and opened his eyes. It was time to get up, no matter what, anyway. He'd have to be at work soon, just as Bonnie would need to pop by her mom's and pick up her things on her way to school.

.

The walk sign on the pedestrian crossing flashed on and off, its red light blinking at her, Do Not Walk. Bonnie stared at it as if it was something she'd never seen before. She knew she shouldn't have, but she'd gotten impatient; it had just been a tiny peek.

The squad of police cars down the road had deterred her from walking across just anywhere; she'd been worried she might get in trouble of jaywalking, and now she couldn't take her eyes away from that silly sign.

_Change!_ she pleaded with it, in a distant part of her mind, _Please, please change!_ but the sign didn't seem to want to change. She'd almost made it to school, too.

She knew she should have taken the bus, but she'd just missed it; she hadn't had the money for a taxi, either.

_Green! Green!_

The light changed to green; safe to walk, and she collapsed to the ground, convulsing.

.

Caleah glanced at the girl sitting next to her in class, and whispered, "So what's up with Roman? She's not in today. Do you think she's dead, or is it, like, just mumps, or whatever?"

Her friend glanced behind her, and snorted. "Who cares? She's such a freak!"

"Yeah," Caleah agreed. That was true. Someone who never wagged, and who'd never missed a day of school in six years, had to have something wrong with them.

.

"Bonnie? Bonnie? Sweetheart, can you hear me?"

Bonnie blinked her eyes open slowly, knowing already where she'd be and feeling like a real fucking idiot. She hated hospitals, and she always knew when she'd been landed in one, like the artificial lights were peeling the skin off her bones, she could feel it. She sucked in a deep breath, telling herself not to freak.

The nurse hanging over her was speaking, but Bonnie wasn't listening. The hum of the hospital was filling up her ears. She fought to push it away and listen to the nurses words. "...contacting your mother, but we didn't get through."

"Typical," Bonnie muttered. She could be lying in the street, dead, and her mother wouldn't pick up the phone.

"I'm sorry, honey, what was that?"

"Can I have a glass of water please?" she asked, trying her best to make her voice louder.

"You certainly can, sweetheart."

"Thank you." _It's okay, Danny_, she thought. _You don't have to worry; I'm okay._ That was when she realised, but wait, she couldn't see the nurse, or the artificial lights, or anything.

"Here you go, sweetie."

She reached out her hand in the direction of the nurse's voice, but the nurse didn't suddenly pop out of the darkness in full colour.

"I don't think I can see anything," she told the nurse.

"I- I'll have to go and get the doctor, sweetie. I won't be a moment."

Bonnie closed her eyes, though she didn't know why she bothered. _Yeah, sure. Not a moment._ She started to count, in her mind, the seconds that passed; at two, she'd already been gone a moment. That was when Bonnie knew she was in for a whole lot of crap she really didn't need right now.

"Fuck!" she screamed. But no-one even came to tell her off for using bad language in a hospital.

.

"Quit twitching, Albert," Donna snapped, "you're putting me off my coffee."

"I can't. I have a nervous condition," he told her.

She rolled her eyes and glanced at her friend. "You hear that, Ren, he has a nervous condition." She snorted. Sure. Sure.

"Nervous condition," Ren replied. "Gotta watch out for them nervous conditions."

"You can laugh, Ren-"

"You hear me laughin', boy? When I'm laughin', you'll know about it, 'cause I'll be the one with the shovel in my hand, and you'll be the one I'm smacking over the head with it."

"Is this some secret fantasy of yours?" Donna asked, picking at her sandwich.

"Definitely."

"Can I join in?"

"Definitely," Ren told her.

Donna smiled.

"Ignore them, man," one of the technicians told him. "You know how women are."

"Shut it, Ramon!" Ren told him.

"Whatever, Reinette, whatever. I didn't come here to start a fight with you, cousin, just to do my job."

"Funny, I don't see you doing your job," she remarked.

He turned his palms up. "I'm on a break. Take it easy."

"He's your cousin?" Donna asked Ren.

"Unfortunately," Ren replied.

"Ah, she doesn't mean that. She just has a way with words, you know, the words just get all jumbled around and mixed up," Ramon said.

"I mean it, Ramon Gallero Montes!" Ren snapped.

He shrugged. "And you love me, too, like a little brother, I know."

Ren laughed, tilting her head from side to side. "You're delusional, Ramon. Get help!"

"He's cute," Donna told her quietly.

"He's a prick. Stay away from him," Ren replied. "Don't get those ideas stuck in your head. Remember what happened the last time?"

Donna shrugged. "I don't even remember Albert, I've totally forgotten who he is," she said to her friend.

Ren took the other woman's face in her hands and turned her chin in the direction of the couch. "Albert!"

"Don't make me look, I'll want to throw my lunch at him, and I was planning on eating that, too!"

"Trust me, Ramon is bad news, sister. Don't even look at him. When it goes bad, and it _will_, you won't just want to throw your sandwich at him, you'll want to drop a _piano_ on him, from _four storeys up_!"

Donna snorted. "He's your cousin!"

"And I know what he's like!"

Donna shook her head.

.

Bonnie was halfway through _Killing Me Softly_ when the nurse came back in to tell her that she'd still not been able to reach her mother over the phone.

Bonnie heaved a sigh. _Fuck, mom, pick up the Goddamn phone for once in your life! What if I'd been arrested for drawing graffiti all over the house or something! _The World's Shittiest Mom Lives Here!_ Jeez!_

_Or committed to an insane asylum_, she thought.

"She's at work," she said. "You won't be able to contact her there. They don't allow that sort of thing."

"What about your father? Can I call him?"

"He's overseas," she replied. Anything was better than, 'I never met him.'

"Mom gets home at six, six thirty. I reckon you'll be right to call her then," she lied. Her mother worked from home.

"Okay, sweetie."

.

She waited for the nurse to leave before trying to sit up. She was getting out of here if it killed her! She couldn't stand it anymore. She wasn't going to have one more of their tests, not one Goddamn single one! She didn't care if they had her stuff, she'd come get it later. She didn't even care how many times she fell over, or walked into a wall, she just needed to get out.

She'd miraculously managed to make it to the ground floor, and was on her way out the door when someone grabbed her and started shouting that nobody move, and, _yes_, that _was_ a gun pressed into her neck.

_Please, please not again!_

"Lady, I said, 'Don't fuckin' move!'"

* * *

6.

"Who is this?"

The small voice on the telephone told him that it belonged to someone called Danny.

He pushed aside any worries about how Danny had gotten his number, and asked, "Danny, what's wrong?"

"Is Bonnie with you?"

"No, Danny, she isn't. Why? Hasn't she come home, yet?"

"No," Danny replied, in an even smaller voice.

"What's that, Danny?"

"No," Danny repeated.

"You know, she likes to go out window shopping sometimes. Maybe that's what she's doing right now."

"I don't think so. The phone's been ringing a lot today, but Mommy doesn't pick it up. She says it's Tom and she's not talking to Tom under _any substance_. But I don't think it is. Tom has her cell number; he always rings her on that, not on the other phone. I think it's Bonnie. I think something's wrong."

"Why would something be wrong, Danny?" he asked.

"Bonnie is sick," the little boy answered.

"She is."

"Yes. She has epsy."

"She has what, Danny?"

"Epsy."

He frowned. Frankly, he'd never heard of any sort of sickness called epsy before.

"Ep-"

"Where are you now, Danny?"

"At the gas station."

"You're not at home?"

"No, Mommy doesn't let me use the phone. There's a payphone at the gas station."

"Do you have enough money for that, Danny?"

"Uh-huh. Bonnie gives me her change, whenever she gets some. The man at the gas station said I could use the phone, even if I'm pretty small. I told him I wasn't being silly, I said I'm going to call someone, I'm not making silly phone calls, and he let me."

"Okay, Danny, you stay there and I'll come pick you up. How does that sound?"

"Okay," Danny replied.

"Can you tell me the name of the gas station?"

Danny told him the name.

"I'll see you in a couple of minutes, okay."

"Okay."

He put the phone down. Great! Just fucking great! This was exactly what he _didn't_ need.

.

He pulled up outside the service station, in the parking spaces allotted for those not using the bowsers, and walked to the building. He could see Danny through the glass, standing by the payphone and a chair that he might have climbed up on to use the phone. The cashier looked at him questioningly when he walked in, and he nodded to the man.

Danny ran over from the phone and he picked him up so the kid could hug him. He looked pretty unhappy, and pretty scared.

"Alright, let's go find Bonnie, hey?" he told Danny.

Danny nodded.

.

"Bonnie has epsy," Danny told him, in the car.

"I'm sorry, Danny, I don't know what that is," he told him.

"Epsy," Danny repeated. "The book says it's because of misfiring in the brain. Bonnie told me that."

"Epilepsy?" David asked.

Danny nodded. "Ep- Epsy."

"Okay, Danny."

.

They were up to the forth hospital on their list, when the woman behind the counter told them that Bonnie had been taken into surgery. Danny's eyes widened and he walked to the closest corner he could find and sat down on the floor and wrapped his arms around his legs and hid his face in his knees.

"Danny. Danny." David walked over and picked him up. "It's going to be alright, Danny. You know Bonnie. She's a tough kid."

Danny sniffed, and buried his head in his shoulder. He was too sad to look at anything. He didn't know why Bonnie had to be in surgery.

The woman behind the counter scribbled something on a note which she folded in half and passed to him, and he nodded thanks to her and offered to buy Danny an ice-cream from the McDonald's down the road.

Danny thought about it for a long time, not wanting to leave because Bonnie was there, then he decided that Bonnie would have said it was okay.

David didn't get a chance to look at the note 'til they'd got to McDonald's, and he'd ordered an ice-cream and a Happy Meal for Danny, and a coffee for himself. He'd looked at it whilst he'd been waiting for their order and Danny had been preoccupied by the nearby playground, watching all of the other kids playing there.

The note said that Bonnie had been shot, and that was the reason she was in surgery. Beyond that, it didn't say why she'd been shot, or anything else.

"What were you reading?" Danny asked, whilst he was unwrapping his cheese burger.

"Reading?"

Danny looked at the counter. "Before, when we were waiting."

He sighed, looking at his coffee for a moment. "Bonnie was shot, Danny."

Danny frowned in confusion. "Why would somebody shoot Bonnie?" he asked.

"I don't know, Danny," he replied honestly, feeling pretty lousy. He hadn't meant for Danny to find out.

"It's okay," Danny replied. "Bonnie's a tough nut to crack."

"Yes, she is," David agreed. A strange way of putting it, but that she was. "Danny-?" He sighed. "Do you think you'd mind if Bonnie and I were married?"

Danny stared at him. "Bonnie?"

"Bonnie and I."

Danny looked at his Coke, then back to him. "Is Bonnie having a baby?"

"No, Danny."

Danny chewed on his straw. "I think you should ask Bonnie."

"Okay, Danny. I will do that."

Danny nodded. "Bonnie told me you're a nice person," he said. "That's what she said. 'David is a nice person. He's not a bad person. He won't hurt us.' She said I could tell you anything I liked. She said, 'You can trust him, Danny.'" He nodded again. "That is true. I think you're a nice person, too."

"Thank you, Danny," David told him. "People don't often tell me that."

"Sometimes people don't care," Danny said. "Even if you're a nice person. They live somewhere else. It's the same place we live, but it's all different because they don't see the same things we see. They are the same things, but they see them differently. They don't even see the rest of the people. The other people are just in the way. But you didn't think Bonnie and me are in the way."

"No, Danny, I don't think you're in the way at all."

Danny nodded. "Can I go on the playground later?"

"Yes, of course."

.

Donna shrugged, sipping her coffee. "I'm working late. Is that illegal now?"

"I didn't say anything," Dent replied.

She narrowed her eyes, blowing on the hot drink. "You had on that look."

"Don't presume to know my mind," he told her, annoyed.

"You don't have a mind, remember. You're a robot."

"You know what, Donna, I have a couple of words for you."

She laughed.

"You really know how to make a guy feel special, you know that!"

"Is that the same as saying, 'Screw you, hag?'" she asked.

"No it isn't, Donna. I prefer not to use such language."

"How gentlemanly of you," she remarked. "Bet you're still thinking it, robot boy."

"Do I look like a boy to you?" he snapped.

She poked her tongue out at him.

"That's not an answer."

"Well it's my answer," she said. "Take it or leave it, Astro."

"I'll give you Astro! I don't fly, thank you!"

She shrugged, taking a quick sip of her drink. "Too bad, 'cause that would have been kinda sexy."

"Pff!" He laughed. "Somehow, I don't think Ramon can fly, either."

"Eavesdropper!"

"I didn't need to eavesdrop, with those eyes you were making at him. I'm not even alive, and even _I_ felt nauseated!"

"Screw you!"

He smiled. Well, that had certainly heckled her.

She placed her mug down on the coffee table and walked over to the couch and snatched the report out of his hands and dropped it on the coffee table. "I have a couple of words to say to _you_, _Albert_, so I'd appreciate if you were actually paying _attention_ when I _did_!"

"And I'm sure they'll be absolutely comedic," he told her.

She smiled, and rested one knee on the couch and leant over to whisper in his ear, "So, you're a robot and all, I get that, but nobody said robots couldn't make passable love slaves."

He put his hand out to keep her from trying anything, like suddenly lunging at him. "Oh, you're evil, you are, missy."

"Jesus, don't tell me you're not even a _proper_ replica!"

He made a face. "What do you mean I'm not a proper- Well I am!"

"And I'm going to take _your_ word for it, Astro." She nodded; not likely.

"I have no reason to lie to you, Donna."

"Oh yes you do, Fido! It's called your oversized ego!"

"Robots don't have egos, Donna. You said as much yourself!"

"Oh no, you're not just full of your own self-importance, Mr. Dent!" she mocked.

"Exactly right," he agreed.

"It's called _sarcasm_, you nitwit!"

He narrowed his eyes on her. "What are you saying?"

"I dunno, Maxwell, what am I saying?"

He shook his head. "I know no-one by that name."

"How very smart of you," she replied, grimacing, and stood up. "Doesn't mean I believe you."

"Believe me?" He scowled. "You're a witch, Donna. A witch!"

"Abracadabra!" she mocked.

He shrugged. "Perhaps magic doesn't work on robots?"

"No, but I know something that does," she replied happily.

"Oh, don't you start with that- That Ren is a bad influence on you, Donna. Do you know that?"

"Leave her alone, or I will wallop you one!"

"That doesn't change the fact that she's a bad influence," he replied.

She turned around and grabbed her coffee, taking another sip. "As you're not alive, Albert, and just a robot, I don't think I need concern myself with your astute observations."

"Aren't you just the charmer!" he scathed.

"Freak! Quit obsessing over me 'cause I'm hooking up with Ramon tomorrow and I won't bother you with my prattling, foulmouthed mouth ever again!"

"Ramon's a womaniser," he laughed.

"Like you'd know!" she snapped. "Besides, it's _my business_, not _yours_!"

"I don't care," he replied.

"Stop twitching!"

"It's a nervous condition!"

"It is not!"

"Is."

"And quit mumbling under your breath! If robots even breathe."

"I like to make an effort."

"To look like a psychotic maniac with that incessant _twitching_!" she added.

"Well maybe I am. A psychotic maniac. Did the thought ever occur to you, Donna?"

"I gotta say, Albert, if you are a psychotic maniac, you're the damnedest, most incompetent psychotic maniac I've ever met! In my whole life!"

"Say that again!" he challenged.

"Do you really wanna hear it again?" she asked.

"I _dare_ you!"

She laughed, amused. "Dared by a robot. That's gotta be a low point in my life!"

"And... and that's another thing! Where do you get off constantly insulting me?"

"Where do you get off constantly insulting _me_! You're a fucking robot! You don't even have real feelings, for God sake!"

"Oh! Nice. Nice, Donna. Real nice."

"I like to make an effort, Albert," she growled.

"Okay, you two," Ren interrupted, stepping out of her hiding place, "I've been standing here for... shit, I don't know how long - God only knows - and so far, all I've heard is whinge, whinge, nag, nag, and there has been absolutely _no_ hot make-up sex! You are _both_ psychotic!"

"He's asexual!" Donna told her, tilting her head from side to side. "That isn't my fault, you perv!"

Ren laughed. "Yeah, you're probably right. Anyway, I just wanted to say, 'Goodnight, and don't work too hard.' Feel free to..." she waved her hands about, "mingle."

"_Good_-night, Ren!" Donna snapped.

"Alright, alright. Bitch, you def need hot make-up sex."

"Don't call _me_ _bitch_, bitch."

"You're actin' like one, sister. A sister calls it like it is."

Donna pointed a finger in Ren's direction with menacing sharpness. "Albert, sic her!"

He tilted his head. "I think not."

Donna glared at him.

"Have fun!" Ren called out to them, from the corner, and Donna took off one of her shoes and threw it at her. It hit the wall with a loud smack.

"Great shot," Dent enthused.

"Shut up, or the next one will be aimed in your direction," she snapped.

"I should hope not, Donna. Someone might take the wrong idea out of it."

"The 'wrong'-!" she seethed.

"The wrong idea, that's right. Donna's getting her gear off. Hmm, I wonder why that is?"

"Keep your filthy thoughts to yourself, Albert!" she growled.

"We robots are exceedingly susceptible to suggestion, Donna. You can't blame me."

"Like Hell I can't!" she spat, turfing her other shoe at him.

"Donna, your aim is impeccable!" he told her smartly, with a big smile.

"I assure you, Albert, I won't miss the second time around!" she growled, stalking over to pick up her shoe and hit him with it.

He quickly stepped out of the way. "Donna, do play nicely."

"You play nicely! By throwing yourself off the top of the building!"

"I may be a robot, but even I have an imagination big enough to imagine that _that_ might hurt, quite a bit," he replied.

"'Imagination'!" she scoffed.

"Don't knock it, Donna. That was the way I was designed."

"You were designed to be a disgusting pain in the ass!" she snarled.

"And there's that," he admitted.

"You're fucking admitting it now!"

"Hey, look, even I know when enough is enough and it's time to call it a quits."

"No you don't," she told him darkly.

"Well, maybe not."

She stared at him in openmouthed outrage.

"That's a nice look, Donna. What I wouldn't give for a camera right now."

She shut her mouth and glared daggers at him.

"Nothing to add, Donna?"

She didn't say a word.

"Come on," he told her, "this is getting boring."

She smiled silently.

"Psychotic maniacs don't like to get bored, Donna. Bad things tend to happen when they do."

"Well get bored," she told him. "Think I'll care."

He walked off to get her other shoe and return it to her, stopping to hand it back to her. "You're not serious about this Ramon character, are you?"

"As a matter of fact, I am!" she told him, raising her chin defiantly.

He made a face. "I see."

She rolled her eyes.

"If you want my opinion, he's not even that good-looking."

Donna widened her eyes. "Nobody asked you!" she gasped.

"Oh, you know, I just thought I'd share my honest opinion with a good friend."

She pointed a shaking finger at him. "We are _not_ friends!"

"Oh, that hurts."

"I doubt it," she snarled. "Very much."

He scowled at her.

"Stop it!"

"Stop what?"

"Creep."

He smiled.

She sniffed, and walked back over to her drink. Picking it up, she took a sip, and put it back down again. "Argh!" She stomped her foot and turned back to him. "It's your fault it's gone cold! Now it tastes abhorrent! Thank you so much for that, Albert!"

"Oh any day, love, any day."

"Don't call me _love_."

"Come here. Give me a hug."

"Hell no!"

"I want us to be friends again."

"No you don't, you just want to rub it in my face that I'm a sissy girl that would rather have a hug than bash your robot brains out with some crappy mug that isn't even mine but belongs to the company."

"Violent," he remarked.

She poked her tongue out at him. "Never gonna happen, Albert."

"That's too bad. I was really rather starting to warm to that picture," he admitted.

"Get a software check, Albert. Run a virus scan, or something."

He laughed.

"I'm serious, Albert baby." She dropped her shoes on the floor by the couch and sat down.

He came to sit down beside her. "Donna, we seem to have a problem here."

"There's no problem here, Albert, the problem is you... talking. Stop talking and there'll be no more problem."

He frowned, and leant over to brush a lock of hair out of her face.

She slapped his hand away. "No touching."

"We could always work on a compromise, Donna," he suggested.

"Not on your life," she replied, picking up one of her shoes.

He grabbed the shoe off her and dropped it back to the floor, collecting both of her hands in his. "I'm not alive, Donna. How many times." Then he leant nearer, and kissed her.

.

"Come on, Danny Boy, time to get home to bed, I think," he told the little boy, walking over and picking him up.

Danny didn't complain. He'd been playing for ages, now he was tired.

"There's a good boy."

"Can I say 'goodnight' to Bonnie?" Danny asked tiredly.

"I don't think so, sweetheart."

Danny sniffed. "Goodnight, David."

"Goodnight, Danny."

Back at the car, he placed the little boy in the backseat and put on his belt, before getting into the car himself and starting the engine. He supposed he'd have to take the kid home and inform his mom that Bonnie had been in an accident and was in hospital.

* * *

7.

Bonnie and Danny's mother wasn't bad looking, for a human, he had to admit that, but she was as cold as ice. She took the boy back and told him that if he came near her son again she'd have him arrested and thrown in jail, to which he didn't raise any furore - there was no point, really -, and proceeded to snap that where her eldest was concerned, she couldn't really give a damn because the girl was an interfering cow who was trying to turn her son against her and ruin their family. Then she thoughtfully slammed the door in his face.

_What a wonderful woman_, he thought, and walked back to his car. Poor Danny Boy; poor Bonnie.

.

When Bonnie came out of surgery, and when she was allowed visitors, he sat down at her bedside and held her hand. He'd told the nurse he was a friend of the family, and she'd seemed to accept that - perhaps she'd thought him Bonnie's father, though he'd not said that he was - but he wasn't complaining. It made him sad to see Bonnie sick and in hospital, but it was a little better when he held her hand. Then he could tell himself that she was alive and warm, and that it would all be alright, in the end. Then he could lie to himself, and it wouldn't even feel much like a lie.

It would feel like hope.

.

The time that Bonnie was in hospital passed slowly, it was strange like that, but when that month had passed, Bonnie was cleared to return home. She'd even regained her sight, though the doctors had said that she would, unfortunately, never talk again.

She didn't go back to her mother's, so she stayed at David's, and, on Christmas Day, she went around to her mom's, to what had once been her home, too, and presented Danny with the model aeroplane she'd bought him as a present and a big hug.

She didn't stay, her mother threatened to call the cops if she didn't leave, and, later in the evening, David decided to take her out somewhere nice to eat, even if she looked like all she wanted to do was cry. She missed Danny, he could tell that much.

And next year, very, very soon, Danny would be starting primary school, and she wouldn't be there to see him off and wish him well. It must have broken her heart.

.

Five months later, he'd just gotten off the phone and around to making the morning coffee, when Bonnie walked into the kitchen and took his hand.

_Come with me_, she signed. _Please._

He didn't object. He was proud of how quickly Bonnie had learnt to communicate with sign language, even if he never told her.

She led him out of the kitchen and to the bathroom, holding his hand the whole way, until they reached the bathroom and she pointed to something on the counter.

He frowned and peered at the object.

Bonnie smiled at him suddenly, but, somehow, he couldn't smile back. He was dumbfounded.

Bonnie was pregnant.

He turned to meet her eyes and asked, "Bonnie, I'm confused. You're pregnant?" He'd told her that he couldn't have kids, that it had been a childhood illness that had done the trick.

Bonnie nodded, smiling, happy. _I don't understand it, either_, she signed, _but it's great news, isn't it?_

He stared at her, taking in how happy she was, her delight, and felt compelled to agree. "Yes, Bonnie, marvellous."

She leant in and hugged him tightly.

He didn't let it show that he was worried, but he was. Extremely so. Bonnie was only human, and he had no idea what having this baby, if it survived that long, would do to her. In spite of himself, he didn't want to lose her. He'd come too close too many times.

He hugged her tighter, hoping against hope that she would be alright. That she wouldn't leave him.

He thought, that just maybe, he needed her. Maybe Bonnie would be the one to make the difference, human as she was. Maybe Bonnie would be the one he let save him.

"I love you," he whispered into her hair, and knew, without her having to sign it, that she loved him right back.


End file.
